December 21, 2008
One of the reasons I started this blog is for the reflective qualities it will hold as I read over it from time to time.
As I sit here, nearing the middle of my service, it is hard to accurately describe emotions. The latter, proves to be a daunting task, as I am not accustom to broadcasting my feelings over the Internet. Regardless, what I have found is that my emotions have ran the whole gauntlet here. Happiness, sadness, loneliness, elation, excitement, hesitation, apprehension, jubilation, satisfaction, contentment. I have felt them all. Even more strange, is that I have felt them all in short amounts of time. In phases and even during the same day. In the most exceptional cases, I have felt contrasting emotions within a matter of seconds.
One may not feel that this is too much different than how we feel in our comfort zone. However, I believe that going from the satisfaction of hearing your favorite song on the radio cruising down the freeway, to the anger you get when someone cuts you off moments later, has little comparison to this experience.
Since I have been here, I have had varying degrees of interest. I have also had varying levels of culture shock. What I know for sure, is that culture shock is a continuous mechanism. It presents itself everyday. For the most part, I believe that the longer you stay in a foreign place, the more subtle it becomes. Comparatively, the easier it is to cope with. On the other hand, while big shock factors immediately hit you and fade away, other things stay with you, stick to you. Also, you begin to unearth other differences that were once hidden.
For me, right now, at this moment, the biggest feeling of cultural difference has to do with the fact that I am in an uninterested state in my Chinese language learning. I went from an adamant and peak period, to one in which I have devoted little time over the past three weeks and have regrettably (but maybe necessarily) relied just on English. Of course, I have also been applying for scholarships and planning Spring Festival. In addition, the dreariness of not being at home for Christmas has also set in. That alone is a major deterrent from wanting to engage in the very thing that is preventing you from being back in your comfort zone.
Overall, in regards to language acquisition, I may have been to overzealous or had the wrong expectations. I could just be burnt out. Though I plan to keep up with the language by studying it over Spring Festival as much as possible, I also know that desensitizing from China is probably a good thing.
Living in China is not easy. It is the little things that I took for granted in America, that now lead me to dwell in a state of non-positivity from time to time. Little things that build up and fill your life. Like always having water on your bathroom floor, having to wear long underwear 24/7, having to get up or stay up to odd hours to communicate with people back home, avoiding slippery noodles on your classroom floor, non-stop noise and chaos in the classroom, etc.
I know, the reader is thinking, "that isn't so bad." But please, save the criticism. You don't know unless you have dealt with it. These little things can add up and really eat away at you. Which is precisely an example of how emotions can change in this setting. A month ago, I would have never written that sentence because those things didn't bother me. I enjoyed them. I liked the difference. I was fully acclimated into it. It was the norm. Today, maybe they do bother me. Three months ago, I was thriving on the chaotic structure of China. Today, I just want something to work without hesitation or having to tamper with it for 15 minutes.
Of course, I am humble and have it better than most. I know this. This is just observational. However, there are days when I long for the functionality and efficiency of America. Days in which I know that if I go someplace to get something, they will have it. Days in which I know that if something says it will start at a set time, it will start at that time. Days in which websites won't be blocked or communication interrupted. Ease is what I covet. That is what I feel right now. That is what I crave. That explains why I have not been on-par with my studying. It isn't easy to study Chinese. To motivate yourself to do it. A month ago was no problem, now it is. Peaks and valleys.
This experience is all about peaks and valleys. The reader most likely gets a lopsided viewpoint from my blog, because I tend to write only at times when I feel inspired, which coincidentally coincide with times I feel really good, really motivated or really angry. The low times, the valleys, make me persist with little enthusiasm for writing. Overall, there hasn't been more valleys than hills or vice-versa. If anything, they have been consistent in their sporadic rhythm. Up, down, up, up, way up, down a little, up, way down, way up, down. But, I am never stagnate. Never, just feeling nothing. It may be impossible to feel nothing here. There is so much going on. So much happening. Your mind is always alert and your senses always acute. So much so, that your emotions feel tangled and confused, as your mind searches for normalcy in an unfamiliar place.
Friday, December 19, 2008
All This is China
The girl across the aisle sits next to her friend, sucking on a lollipop. They are around 15, and headed home after being at school for 12 hours. The men on the bus wait patiently, while the women gab and discuss their day. The driver, flips through a newspaper as the bus fills to a level that will suit his decision to drive off.
Outside, the air is thick. Smog and dust, clutter the senses and make an even darker December night more black. Neon flashes from the restaurant across the street, and moto-taxis whistle by, amidst the occasional dump truck and mini-van. Everything about this scene is China.
I'm sitting in field full of harvested rice. An older woman approaches carrying stacks of wood. She sees me, keeps singing, and then hustles at a surprisingly quick pace, as two cows and their young calf round the bend. She drops the wood, breaks off a switch, and steers the hungry omnivores around the path. One which they know well by memory, and one which has been tread by cattle for decades before them.
Behind me, dogs bark at a tiny village. A few teenagers ride by on bikes on a road that sees little traffic. Maybe a tourist bus, every now and then. The sky is calm. The sun is out. The woman is met by her husband and they retire for the day. The rice, the woman, the bikes, the air. Everything about this scene is China.
I'm in a room full of Chinese teachers from the school's English department. They stand up, randomly taking turns toasting each other, us, and other distinguished guests. Quietly, waitresses tend to the four tables, placing food of every color, shape and taste in front of us. There is no shortage on quantity.
The men, traverse the room, cheers-ing as they go about. It doesn't matter that I have not met them, we drink til the glass is empty, and then place it down. The laughter is loud, the camaraderie boisterously overflows. The food and the music and the festivities continue, unabated, for about two hours. I get a sense of being in Ancient Rome. Consumption, spirits, celebrating the evening away. No worries to be had. Only the now, and only graciousness exists. Everything about this scene. The hospitality, the noise, the ease with which the Chinese laugh. Everything about this scene is China.
Outside, the air is thick. Smog and dust, clutter the senses and make an even darker December night more black. Neon flashes from the restaurant across the street, and moto-taxis whistle by, amidst the occasional dump truck and mini-van. Everything about this scene is China.
I'm sitting in field full of harvested rice. An older woman approaches carrying stacks of wood. She sees me, keeps singing, and then hustles at a surprisingly quick pace, as two cows and their young calf round the bend. She drops the wood, breaks off a switch, and steers the hungry omnivores around the path. One which they know well by memory, and one which has been tread by cattle for decades before them.
Behind me, dogs bark at a tiny village. A few teenagers ride by on bikes on a road that sees little traffic. Maybe a tourist bus, every now and then. The sky is calm. The sun is out. The woman is met by her husband and they retire for the day. The rice, the woman, the bikes, the air. Everything about this scene is China.
I'm in a room full of Chinese teachers from the school's English department. They stand up, randomly taking turns toasting each other, us, and other distinguished guests. Quietly, waitresses tend to the four tables, placing food of every color, shape and taste in front of us. There is no shortage on quantity.
The men, traverse the room, cheers-ing as they go about. It doesn't matter that I have not met them, we drink til the glass is empty, and then place it down. The laughter is loud, the camaraderie boisterously overflows. The food and the music and the festivities continue, unabated, for about two hours. I get a sense of being in Ancient Rome. Consumption, spirits, celebrating the evening away. No worries to be had. Only the now, and only graciousness exists. Everything about this scene. The hospitality, the noise, the ease with which the Chinese laugh. Everything about this scene is China.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Conflict Styles on an International Level
December 8, 2008
I dedicate this post to the women, men and youth of the Community Mediation Center of Southeastern Virginia, for whom I miss, am thankful for, and who taught me so much.
I have been wanting to write this post for a long time, but let other things get in the way. All, I can say is, I am so glad that I received the training in conflict resolution that I did as an AmeriCorps volunteer. It has proved and will continue to prove, invaluable during this experience.
Conflict is a part of everyone's life. From the ant to the ambassador, conflict exists. I believe conflict exists to teach us that their are options, and that reason can occur if we want it to. I have found that in China, not only have I witnessed conflict, experienced it and evaluated it continually, but I have used my methods for dealing with conflict (techniques I refer to as "the secret" because so few people actually know them) nearly every day, and much more than I did use back home. They are my secret weapon.
When do I use these coping methods? When I deal with other volunteers, students, my liaison, colleagues. During the times when I am the canvas for people to paint their problems and worries on, I use them. To be able to paraphrase and use reflective listening has benefited me to the nth degree. Without fail, I leave conversations feeling that I was in control of the conversation, I did not let it provoke me, lure me or trap me into an emotional fist fight.
In my own life, juggling a partnership with someone in California, I have used these techniques and have noticed how vastly superior they are to the alternatives: silent treatment or argument.
It is not easy having the conflict style I have, a collaborative competitor. Basically, what that translates to is that, "I would love to work with you, as long as I get my way." Nonetheless, what is the most important thing of all, is actually knowing that that is how I am. I have seen in China, just how big of a collaborator I am. How it has gotten me into trouble by trying to do too many things, with too many people. Say, plan a lesson or activity with another teacher, or, (OH MY GOD!) how it has wasted my time.
It has taken me a while to come up with a communication strategy to this, but after a behavioral assessment, I have learned that to be assertive, above all else, will never fail. Communication is the key. Scratch that, ASSERTIVE communication is the key. It may leave you feeling funny at first, "Am I being mean?," you may ask yourself, but it is the key. Obviously, there are times, when it pays to not be assertive. However, in the end, you can walk away with a clear conscience, and that is so much more rewarding than sacrificing your principles or priorities for other people.
I dedicate this post to the women, men and youth of the Community Mediation Center of Southeastern Virginia, for whom I miss, am thankful for, and who taught me so much.
I have been wanting to write this post for a long time, but let other things get in the way. All, I can say is, I am so glad that I received the training in conflict resolution that I did as an AmeriCorps volunteer. It has proved and will continue to prove, invaluable during this experience.
Conflict is a part of everyone's life. From the ant to the ambassador, conflict exists. I believe conflict exists to teach us that their are options, and that reason can occur if we want it to. I have found that in China, not only have I witnessed conflict, experienced it and evaluated it continually, but I have used my methods for dealing with conflict (techniques I refer to as "the secret" because so few people actually know them) nearly every day, and much more than I did use back home. They are my secret weapon.
When do I use these coping methods? When I deal with other volunteers, students, my liaison, colleagues. During the times when I am the canvas for people to paint their problems and worries on, I use them. To be able to paraphrase and use reflective listening has benefited me to the nth degree. Without fail, I leave conversations feeling that I was in control of the conversation, I did not let it provoke me, lure me or trap me into an emotional fist fight.
In my own life, juggling a partnership with someone in California, I have used these techniques and have noticed how vastly superior they are to the alternatives: silent treatment or argument.
It is not easy having the conflict style I have, a collaborative competitor. Basically, what that translates to is that, "I would love to work with you, as long as I get my way." Nonetheless, what is the most important thing of all, is actually knowing that that is how I am. I have seen in China, just how big of a collaborator I am. How it has gotten me into trouble by trying to do too many things, with too many people. Say, plan a lesson or activity with another teacher, or, (OH MY GOD!) how it has wasted my time.
It has taken me a while to come up with a communication strategy to this, but after a behavioral assessment, I have learned that to be assertive, above all else, will never fail. Communication is the key. Scratch that, ASSERTIVE communication is the key. It may leave you feeling funny at first, "Am I being mean?," you may ask yourself, but it is the key. Obviously, there are times, when it pays to not be assertive. However, in the end, you can walk away with a clear conscience, and that is so much more rewarding than sacrificing your principles or priorities for other people.
Overflow
December 8, 2008
There I am, standing on the bus. Backpack on, heavy winter coat in one hand, gym bag in the other. The weather outside is pleasant and warm, though I know that in a few hours, the mercury will fall. Hence, the coat.
Passengers jostle and gossip as the bus churns around Changsha's busy streets. Screeching to a halt at one stop, dangerously close to the bus in front, a group of young girls next to me explode into laughter. All this angers me. Not just the driver's apparent lack of depth perception, but the way that these things are just accepted as "the norm". This cultural difference, teaches me one thing: The Chinese have adapted different ways of dealing with the stresses of daily life. They laugh.
Each dilemma that could increase blood pressure or stop their heart, is met with a chuckle. Fits of temper and road rage are not the norm, they are the exception. For the most part, laughter has replaced anger. This defense must have been nurtured due to the fact that there is no way around the business, inefficiency and dysfunction of daily life here.
I take a seat, turn on my Ipod, and watch the world go by. On my way to the train station (where I will transfer to another bus to get to my friend's apartment), I have two thoughts:
One, this ride, is like so many I have had. Alone, full of my thoughts, watching the streets, worrying about my Chinese ability, suspiciously content. I hurriedly try to maximize time, scribbling notes, texting contacts, making a "to-do" list. I must be such an enigma to the old man next to me, as I peel a banana and drop the skin out the window during one of our stops. It isn't as if the latter is shocking. It is just that I look so rushed compared to him. With all that is going on in my life, I have little time to waste, and so I must use every amount of time I have, whether on the bus or waiting for one, on trying to improve one facet of myself, or juggle my relationship and career on two continents. I have found no way around it. It is just the way it is.
At the train station, I approach a driver of a bus I am unfamiliar with. "Xiaoyaun gongyuan, dao bu dao?" I ask, wondering if the bus stops where I need to go. I am met with the recyclable answer: "Ting bu dong" or "I don't understand you" and a laugh. How can this be? Even when I say the words correctly, my accent and pronunciation are so far off that they cannot understand me. Only with students or those that speak English themselves, is my pronunciation less suspect.
On the next bus, a seat next to the window. "Waiguoren (foreigner)" I hear, a girl in the back yell to her friend in the front. Both glance at me and exchange laughs and what figure to be jokes at my expense. In most cases, I would have spoken up, telling them, "Ni bu shou Waiguoren. Waiguoren bu hao. Wo shi Meiguoren (Don't say 'foreigner'. 'Foreigner' is not good. I am American."). If anything, this lets them know that just because I am not Chinese, it does not mean I cannot understand at least some words they say in their native tongue.
This continual cultural difference has been hard for me to get over. To put it in context, could you imagine an American constantly shouting a similar epithet each time they saw someone who "did not fit the norm". "Look honey, look at that German tourist!" Actually, "yes", many of us can, but at the very least the vast majority of Americans would not call out a tourist every time they see one. I realize that Changsha, and indeed many people and parts of China are still opening up to the rest of the world, but I cannot shake the feeling of being called, what I perceive to be, such a negative term.
The second thing this bus ride has made me realize is just out of place my emotions, professional capability and communication have been this whole year. At times, to say I have been on an emotional roller-coaster would not even do it justice. Other times, I am completely content. It is a tidal phenomenon. Currently, I am experiencing devotion and ambition towards my career. Whereas, just a few weeks ago, all I could think about was making Chinese friends.
In terms of professional connections, I have found that because their is a lack of cohesiveness with the school (I feel that I am a novelty, not a staff member), I often feel isolated, and left out of "the know". Some of this is due to the fact, that things work differently here, but though I am improving relationships with Chinese colleagues, I regret not having put more emphasis on it in the beginning.
Communication-wise, I often find myself speaking in a dumb-downed version of English to Chinese acquaintances. For example, instead of saying "vast", I would say "really, really big". I do this for their benefit, but is has had detrimental effects on my ability to sound eloquent when I speak to others. I have also noticed, that in hindsight, many of the battles I have had here, have not been with my school, locals or Chinese students, but Americans.
In fact, I can trace some of the most stressful situations here to acts by Americans, namely other volunteers. It is difficult to work at a school with other foreign teachers for this very reason. I realize now, that I should not waste time on collaboration with the other foreign teachers at my school (see the next blog about conflict style) and should have instead been more assertive with my communication from the beginning. All of this could seem irrelevant or boring, and it is hard to convey in words.
The bottom line here is this: Some Americans have the ability to turn anything into an ugly situation when they are out of their comfort zone. It is not their fault, it is just that because we have been born and raised in the epitome of functionality and efficiency, we come to expect things. Customer service related things, business related aspects, consumer related aspects, the list could go on. I, personally feel that I am able to cut through that, not "expect" anything and just go with what comes my way. However, others cannot and when you work with them, it can prove to be a very bumpy ride.
It is also difficult being an older volunteer. At 28, I have little interest in what 22, 23 and 24 year olds want from this experience. I know what I want, that is all that matters. For anyone thinking of doing a volunteer project abroad, you should really consider what it will be like for you with other Americans around. For me, I have found that I have spent (hopefully not wasted) a lot of energy and thought on what other volunteers do with their time. I have traced this to my curiosity in human relations and social interaction. In the end, I believe that that part of the experience will prove to be just as beneficial. That is, understanding how many Americans function on the international scene. However, all I can say is, for those volunteers wasting time in Americanized stores, coffee shops, with other volunteers and with other expats, have fun. I did not want that experience, and I have not had it for the most part. I have chosen to distance myself from that, though it comes at a price. People tend to see you as abrasive, but I know what I want and that is what matters.
Speaking of what I want, it is this: To learn as much of the Chinese language as possible; to make Chinese friends, people that I will stay in contact with after I leave; to travel throughout the country and see an diverse mix of city, rural, poor, rich and ethnic life. For the most part, I am keeping on that track.
So, today has been very productive for me. Full of the usual. I am comfortable with where I am at, and I am more motivated than ever to get where I want to be. I feel that I am for the first time here, becoming my own person, whereas for the past four months, I have juggled so much, experienced so much and been tested so much. See, there goes that lack of eloquence again.
There I am, standing on the bus. Backpack on, heavy winter coat in one hand, gym bag in the other. The weather outside is pleasant and warm, though I know that in a few hours, the mercury will fall. Hence, the coat.
Passengers jostle and gossip as the bus churns around Changsha's busy streets. Screeching to a halt at one stop, dangerously close to the bus in front, a group of young girls next to me explode into laughter. All this angers me. Not just the driver's apparent lack of depth perception, but the way that these things are just accepted as "the norm". This cultural difference, teaches me one thing: The Chinese have adapted different ways of dealing with the stresses of daily life. They laugh.
Each dilemma that could increase blood pressure or stop their heart, is met with a chuckle. Fits of temper and road rage are not the norm, they are the exception. For the most part, laughter has replaced anger. This defense must have been nurtured due to the fact that there is no way around the business, inefficiency and dysfunction of daily life here.
I take a seat, turn on my Ipod, and watch the world go by. On my way to the train station (where I will transfer to another bus to get to my friend's apartment), I have two thoughts:
One, this ride, is like so many I have had. Alone, full of my thoughts, watching the streets, worrying about my Chinese ability, suspiciously content. I hurriedly try to maximize time, scribbling notes, texting contacts, making a "to-do" list. I must be such an enigma to the old man next to me, as I peel a banana and drop the skin out the window during one of our stops. It isn't as if the latter is shocking. It is just that I look so rushed compared to him. With all that is going on in my life, I have little time to waste, and so I must use every amount of time I have, whether on the bus or waiting for one, on trying to improve one facet of myself, or juggle my relationship and career on two continents. I have found no way around it. It is just the way it is.
At the train station, I approach a driver of a bus I am unfamiliar with. "Xiaoyaun gongyuan, dao bu dao?" I ask, wondering if the bus stops where I need to go. I am met with the recyclable answer: "Ting bu dong" or "I don't understand you" and a laugh. How can this be? Even when I say the words correctly, my accent and pronunciation are so far off that they cannot understand me. Only with students or those that speak English themselves, is my pronunciation less suspect.
On the next bus, a seat next to the window. "Waiguoren (foreigner)" I hear, a girl in the back yell to her friend in the front. Both glance at me and exchange laughs and what figure to be jokes at my expense. In most cases, I would have spoken up, telling them, "Ni bu shou Waiguoren. Waiguoren bu hao. Wo shi Meiguoren (Don't say 'foreigner'. 'Foreigner' is not good. I am American."). If anything, this lets them know that just because I am not Chinese, it does not mean I cannot understand at least some words they say in their native tongue.
This continual cultural difference has been hard for me to get over. To put it in context, could you imagine an American constantly shouting a similar epithet each time they saw someone who "did not fit the norm". "Look honey, look at that German tourist!" Actually, "yes", many of us can, but at the very least the vast majority of Americans would not call out a tourist every time they see one. I realize that Changsha, and indeed many people and parts of China are still opening up to the rest of the world, but I cannot shake the feeling of being called, what I perceive to be, such a negative term.
The second thing this bus ride has made me realize is just out of place my emotions, professional capability and communication have been this whole year. At times, to say I have been on an emotional roller-coaster would not even do it justice. Other times, I am completely content. It is a tidal phenomenon. Currently, I am experiencing devotion and ambition towards my career. Whereas, just a few weeks ago, all I could think about was making Chinese friends.
In terms of professional connections, I have found that because their is a lack of cohesiveness with the school (I feel that I am a novelty, not a staff member), I often feel isolated, and left out of "the know". Some of this is due to the fact, that things work differently here, but though I am improving relationships with Chinese colleagues, I regret not having put more emphasis on it in the beginning.
Communication-wise, I often find myself speaking in a dumb-downed version of English to Chinese acquaintances. For example, instead of saying "vast", I would say "really, really big". I do this for their benefit, but is has had detrimental effects on my ability to sound eloquent when I speak to others. I have also noticed, that in hindsight, many of the battles I have had here, have not been with my school, locals or Chinese students, but Americans.
In fact, I can trace some of the most stressful situations here to acts by Americans, namely other volunteers. It is difficult to work at a school with other foreign teachers for this very reason. I realize now, that I should not waste time on collaboration with the other foreign teachers at my school (see the next blog about conflict style) and should have instead been more assertive with my communication from the beginning. All of this could seem irrelevant or boring, and it is hard to convey in words.
The bottom line here is this: Some Americans have the ability to turn anything into an ugly situation when they are out of their comfort zone. It is not their fault, it is just that because we have been born and raised in the epitome of functionality and efficiency, we come to expect things. Customer service related things, business related aspects, consumer related aspects, the list could go on. I, personally feel that I am able to cut through that, not "expect" anything and just go with what comes my way. However, others cannot and when you work with them, it can prove to be a very bumpy ride.
It is also difficult being an older volunteer. At 28, I have little interest in what 22, 23 and 24 year olds want from this experience. I know what I want, that is all that matters. For anyone thinking of doing a volunteer project abroad, you should really consider what it will be like for you with other Americans around. For me, I have found that I have spent (hopefully not wasted) a lot of energy and thought on what other volunteers do with their time. I have traced this to my curiosity in human relations and social interaction. In the end, I believe that that part of the experience will prove to be just as beneficial. That is, understanding how many Americans function on the international scene. However, all I can say is, for those volunteers wasting time in Americanized stores, coffee shops, with other volunteers and with other expats, have fun. I did not want that experience, and I have not had it for the most part. I have chosen to distance myself from that, though it comes at a price. People tend to see you as abrasive, but I know what I want and that is what matters.
Speaking of what I want, it is this: To learn as much of the Chinese language as possible; to make Chinese friends, people that I will stay in contact with after I leave; to travel throughout the country and see an diverse mix of city, rural, poor, rich and ethnic life. For the most part, I am keeping on that track.
So, today has been very productive for me. Full of the usual. I am comfortable with where I am at, and I am more motivated than ever to get where I want to be. I feel that I am for the first time here, becoming my own person, whereas for the past four months, I have juggled so much, experienced so much and been tested so much. See, there goes that lack of eloquence again.
Friday, December 5, 2008
The Demon Barber of Shaoshan Nan Lu
December 6, 2008
It was all planned out. An hour at the gym, then off to get a massage. But, as I stood there, scoping my grizzly beard in the mirror, I felt a need. A need to get it shaved off. So, I forewent the massage and stopped off at the salon.
An hour and a half later, I would walk out, with half a mustache and (thankfully) my lips and ears still intact. Getting a shave in China, not the best idea. It takes a lot of nerve to go under the razor, especially when a salon full of gossipy Changshanese are gawking and laughing at the ridiculous possibilities that could transpire, should the young barber have a sudden twitch.
No harm done. The rest of the night, and partly the reason I am in so early, was spent with a co-worker at a local diner.
It was all planned out. An hour at the gym, then off to get a massage. But, as I stood there, scoping my grizzly beard in the mirror, I felt a need. A need to get it shaved off. So, I forewent the massage and stopped off at the salon.
An hour and a half later, I would walk out, with half a mustache and (thankfully) my lips and ears still intact. Getting a shave in China, not the best idea. It takes a lot of nerve to go under the razor, especially when a salon full of gossipy Changshanese are gawking and laughing at the ridiculous possibilities that could transpire, should the young barber have a sudden twitch.
No harm done. The rest of the night, and partly the reason I am in so early, was spent with a co-worker at a local diner.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
3rd Time is Definitely Not the Charm
Yesterday, marked the third time in as many weeks, that I have gotten some version of food poisoning. At least, I am hoping it is only that.
The first culprit: an overindulgence of steamed and fried dumplings topped off with Oreos. Ewwwwww. I guess that means I will not crave the latter anymore. On top of it, my friend got his bag stolen at the restaurant we were eating at that night. Insult to injury or vice versa.
Scenario Two: Grilled spicy potato wedges in Fenghuang. How I coveted them all day, only to find that when I got them, they were cold. Stupidly, I still ate them. Note to self: Never eat cold street food.
The Whopper: Must have been the cake or the egg or something else, but last night was no picnic. I'll spare the details but nothing can invoke hate more than food poisoning.
So, hopefully, I have learned a few lessons. Wash your hands numerous times a day. Do not touch your mouth. Finally, in general, just pay attention to what you eat.
I've been snacking on saltines and 7 up today, the only thing I can seem to stomach. However, I am happy to announce that hell on Earth can now be classified as "getting food poisoning in China." There is nothing more miserable. Well, I mean, comparatively.
Other than that, this week, I am teaching "music" to my students. I printed off copies of some classical rock songs. Bust. The students favorite artists: Backstreet Boys, Britney, Christina...though they also know Ne-Yo and Beyonce. Someone seriously needs to infuse more variety into their lives. I guess that will be me. My last class today, was filled with Simon Says (they are the beginning students) and it had to be one of the best classes I have had. Though, I was fatigued thanks to the lack of sleep last night.
My junior 2's seemed less interested in listening to music, than studying for their geography test. Apparently, it was a STRESSFUL situation for them.
So continues a sick and unusual week in China. Currently, I am still waiting on news of my Spring Festival dates, planning a trip regardless. Though, it is looking like India is definitely off the list now and Thailand has been downgraded to "not-likely". Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia are definite, with the possibility of Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia and Yunnan province (near the China/Myanmar border) pending time off.
So, until next time, zaijian.
The first culprit: an overindulgence of steamed and fried dumplings topped off with Oreos. Ewwwwww. I guess that means I will not crave the latter anymore. On top of it, my friend got his bag stolen at the restaurant we were eating at that night. Insult to injury or vice versa.
Scenario Two: Grilled spicy potato wedges in Fenghuang. How I coveted them all day, only to find that when I got them, they were cold. Stupidly, I still ate them. Note to self: Never eat cold street food.
The Whopper: Must have been the cake or the egg or something else, but last night was no picnic. I'll spare the details but nothing can invoke hate more than food poisoning.
So, hopefully, I have learned a few lessons. Wash your hands numerous times a day. Do not touch your mouth. Finally, in general, just pay attention to what you eat.
I've been snacking on saltines and 7 up today, the only thing I can seem to stomach. However, I am happy to announce that hell on Earth can now be classified as "getting food poisoning in China." There is nothing more miserable. Well, I mean, comparatively.
Other than that, this week, I am teaching "music" to my students. I printed off copies of some classical rock songs. Bust. The students favorite artists: Backstreet Boys, Britney, Christina...though they also know Ne-Yo and Beyonce. Someone seriously needs to infuse more variety into their lives. I guess that will be me. My last class today, was filled with Simon Says (they are the beginning students) and it had to be one of the best classes I have had. Though, I was fatigued thanks to the lack of sleep last night.
My junior 2's seemed less interested in listening to music, than studying for their geography test. Apparently, it was a STRESSFUL situation for them.
So continues a sick and unusual week in China. Currently, I am still waiting on news of my Spring Festival dates, planning a trip regardless. Though, it is looking like India is definitely off the list now and Thailand has been downgraded to "not-likely". Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia are definite, with the possibility of Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia and Yunnan province (near the China/Myanmar border) pending time off.
So, until next time, zaijian.
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