First Snow and I couldn't wait...

Wuhan is all snowy today. The snow was mixed with sleet and slush yesterday, but this morning we woke to a light frosting and all day it's been coming down. Though the accumulation has remained as nothing more than a dusting...I couldn't help but get the Christmas music going!

In class this afternoon I taught my students to sing "Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow." All day I've been rearranging my Christmas songs into the combinations that I like best.

And never before has the song "I'll be home for Christmas" made me sooo happy!! Just thought I'd share!

Disaster Highs

It's 3 a.m. and I can't sleep. The world just ended 3 years from now. It was awesome.

I'm speaking of the new disaster flick 2012. I blame the fact that my first kiss followed a viewing of the movie Armageddon, but I'm a huge sucker for a good full-on disaster film. The more ridiculous and formulaic, the better it is in my book. Aliens, asteroids, nuclear warfare, perfect storms, volcanic eruptions, sinking ships, mountain avalanches, splintered freeways, tornadoes throwing cows around... you name it--if it's on the big screen, I'll be joyfully there, gnawing on twizzlers in stressed out rapture.

The big screen is the key though. I don't care for any of these once out on DVD...the mildly witty humor, obvious deadpan comments, vague moments of semi-scientific explanations, absurd escapes, heroic sacrifices and human togetherness need to be seen and heard in massive proportions to be any fun...a tv screen amputates away all the mindless vibrant joie de vivre of the genre.

Over the past few years, one of the things I've missed most was having great, mild date nights of food and movie. It's plain and routine and I love it. The movie theaters in Wuhan seldom show anything in English...so when they do, we usually make a point of trying to go. For this reason, in the past year, I have seen 3 movies in Wuhan theaters (and 2 in Beijing...which gets a bunch more of the international movies...so it doesn't count in this discussion): Valykrie (or however that one with Tom Cruise as a German was spelled), Transformers 2, and now 2012.

The first two were obviously duds, and it is a testament of Americans' innate love of a movie date that we all went at all. AND WE ENJOYED IT. The joy of movie theater movies is that if the movie is crap, you can laugh and make fun of it together while enjoying the atmosphere. The AWESOME joy of CHINESE movie theater movies is that you can also mess with peoples' minds. A row of foreigners draws attention....and so when that whole row of foreigners laughs simultaneously, everyone's going to notice. When those foreigners all laugh at a dramatic moment on cue from a pre-agreed-upon signal, everyone's going to get confused and wonder what their subtitles aren't telling them! And maybe they're even going to laugh along, pretending that they get the humor as well. It's wrong...but so fun.

Anyway, as soon as I heard of 2012, I knew I desperately wanted it to come to Wuhan. A review mentioned that the scientist character would utter "My. God." NOT JUST ONCE....but TWICE! And that the director...whatever his name is...is the type who's perfected worldwide disaster to the extreme...he's not just going to crush the White House, he's going to crush it with the USS John F. Kennedy battleship! He's not just going to have water flood some mountains, he's going to have it be Mount Everest! How could you ask for anything more!

And obviously, it did open in Wuhan. Disaster movies do well in China with only subtitles (not the usual redubbing) b/c you don't have to worry about everyone understanding the plot for it to be enjoyed. Plus, China actually has a role in the plot of the movie, so when we arrived, the first 2 showings were already sold out. We had to wait till 11:30 to see it, and the theater was packed! The movie did NOT disappoint! Cars drove through buildings!, airplanes brushed mountain peaks!, limos jumped cliffs!, California fell into the water!, the President was noble!, the expendable bumbling idiots met their end!, families found the love!, humanity found the love!, my heart raced and lots of cola was sold!

Without giving anything away, the movie is much more enjoyable if you:
1. Play your own version of a drinking game anytime there's obvious foreshadowing
2. whisper "dead dead dead" to your partner anytime a new character appears who will obviously not make it
3. Insert the line, "Wanna procreate?" into the dialogue any time the couples who will obviously be united by the disaster speak.

Ok, I'm finally coming down from the rush that was 2012 and will finish this up and go to bed. I don't know if I would ever recommend this movie in the States...the point of all of this is that I've lived over here for almost 2.5 years, so anything English in theaters is a drop of water in a parched land.

In closing, I'll share the line that got the biggest laugh in the Wuhan theater (foreigners and Chinese alike....though I think we the foreigners laughed harder at it):

Character 1 to hero as they fly in a small bush plane away from disaster (paraphrased for understanding): "So, where does this secret map that you just almost died to retrieve tell you the secret location is where we must go to save our lives?"

hero opens map to reveal the PRC with the word "CHINA" written in red across the country

hero: "We're gonna need a bigger plane."

Remembering the Summer Commute

I wrote the following during the summer, but somehow in the haze of heat and work, I never posted it. Now that the weather is chilly and descending into cold, I thought it might be appropriate to pause and remember what was. I mostly write these descriptive posts for myself so that I can remember the little details when I'm back in the States. Not sure if they're as enjoyable for the readers though...oh well! Hope you're all enjoying the scarf weather wherever you are! ~LucyP

The Summer Commute

There is construction noise at all times, without end. First comes the sound of hammers and drills, then a welder and you can see sparks falling from somewhere above you. This morning, they are replacing something outside, dangling from windows and scaffolding that you can’t quite tell without leaning out the window—which is a bad idea. It is 7:30 and the noise will continue in various forms all day. Later, they will replace cabinets next door. Then it will be the building that’s going up down the street. Horns and the wail of the cardboard cart passing far below. You wake to urban life. The bed is hard and the sun is partially obscured by the adjacent high-rise.

And so you brew your favorite tea and play the music that reminds you that God’s grace is sometimes just moments of peaceful breathing in the midst of chaos. Morning is for tea and coffee and toast and fruit and responding to emails and reading news headlines and whatever else comes along.

But then the hour comes and you must step out into the blazing street, radiating heat stored from years of summer and dust that smacks your eyes while your nose can now smell only the putrid puddles tossed from the street vendors along the curb. And you merge into the pedestrian traffic of all mankind and walk the twisted jittery line of fitful bump and dodge and halt and speed-up that is the daily walk to the bus stop. There is the hobbled man collecting plastic bottles out of the trash bins, the grandmother holding a toddler by both hands as he walks in wobbling half-steps, his baby genitals on proud display framed by the traditional split pants found everywhere here. There are the stands jutting out with jiaozi and baozi and zongzi, smoke envelops you briefly passing Xinjiang shaokao, the lamb skewers heating over open coals and somehow it always smells like dirt even when it tastes so good.

Now you pass the hair salon and this gets dangerous as they claim all sidewalk space in front of their shops blasting with Korean pop music and you skirt onto the road with the motos and bicycles and whizzing taxis and buses. Don’t swing arms too wide and look before you venture further away from the curb to avoid the grate that is clogged with strips of cabbage and corn husks and green shoots from nowhere in particular. Now you cross the street and look both ways regardless of the lane you are crossing because there are cars around you on all sides with no solid yellow lines seen in the eyes of these drivers. It is frogger but it is life, so you do it now with everyone else and without blinking and forget that it is a strange thing to see cars use the sidewalk as a lane, or to watch a bus form its own lane between two streams of oncoming traffic.

And then jump onto the bus as inches forward, never actually stopping because a full stop seems to make it stall. It just slows to a crawl at the stops, so you learn to hit the ground running. Wedge and squeeze your way to the back and maybe find a seat while now the heat of the street is replaced by all too many bodies crammed together. The windows will be open in the back and on the 2 kuai buses the a/c will be running weakly, so there might be slight relief enough to wipe your brow of the grit that is everywhere. Lurches, jolts, screeching brakes, the bus gets more and more packed along the route. Flashes of life pass blurred: a family of 6 all on one moto, a bicycle loaded with full 5 gallon water jugs so high that they hover over the rider’s head, a peasant carrying a splintery wooden yoke on his shoulders with sheets of glass wrapped in plastic hanging from both sides, so many women wearing tight cheap heels on the broken jutting tiles of the walkway, stores overflowing with chintzy plastic jewelry, blankets spread out on the sidewalk filled with parasols or rubiks cubes or knives or zip drives or watermelons, all for sale by the peasant squatting beside, idly fanning themselves with a feather fan.

Then it’s your stop and you know without sight because the stinky doufu (a fried toufu that’s known for it’s gag-inducing smell while being cooked) vendors congregate here all day every day. Wedge and ease your way off the bus and it’s the jigsaw dance of the pedestrian sidewalks again. The buildings are taller here and giant outdoor screens loom above you, casting their luminous digital tech or LCD colors onto your face advertising lexus cars and whitening cream and wahaha pure water.

The streets are busier and you use the crosswalk, but you must control yourself because the crosswalks are tiny battlefields over and over again all day long. The ranks stand shoulder to shoulder on each side waiting for the light, and at the signal of the flashing green man, they advance upon each other, banners waving the in wind of passing traffic. A wall of humanity marches straight for another wall, closer and closer and you wonder if you might all pause and begin yelling Red Rover Red Rover. But no, everyone keeps walking, a game of chicken, who will turn aside first. And something of a warrior or just an American rises angrily in you and you ask why you must be the one to make way for them to cross, why they can’t figure out that there are walking lanes just like traffic lanes and everyone should stay to their own right-hand side of the crosswalk instead of fanning out like an old-fashioned infantry. And so depending on the day and the goodness in your heart, you either swoop your shoulders to the side and walk sideways through the onslaught, dancing to the right then left then far right and making way for them to pass you as you pass them…or…you steel your face and square your shoulders and set your jaw and look straight forward with head held high and eyes of fire and you march. March! You march and you dare them to barrel into you or brush your shoulder. They do the same.

And then, after all the fury of the street, you are standing in front of another nondescript skyscraper of 60 floors (maybe) and walking through the revolving doors that are always too slow for you because you’re always so close to being late. There’s no a/c in the lobby but it’s cooler in a dark cave kind of way. The elevators on the left take you to the 10th floor. The office is modern with glass walled classrooms and new computers. You go first to the washroom to wash your hands and tidy your face and try to cool down, grab a water, and finally, it’s time to teach.

Xi'an and other things...

I don't know if it's because I've lived in one place for over 2 years now, or if it's because living in a city of public transportation means you pay more attention to the weather, or if Wuhan just has more predictable weather patterns than what I've known before, but I've become a Wuhanren Farmer's Almanac.

For the third year now, I've seen fall arrive all in one day...or well, week. There is always a slight push and pull for a week or so, and then, one day, it rains. It's a miserable cold rain that is really nice if you can stay inside and drink tea and read, but if you have to go anywhere, it's soggy and drippy and runny-nosey. And then the rain clears and the next days are breezy and nice, cool in mornings and evenings and shade, and fall is here for a little while. The sweet potato vendors pop up here and there, the markets slowly but surely begin to overflow with oranges, and short sleeves completely disappear, not to return until after May 1st next year. It's really lovely--and this year, it was a neat experience KNOWING that this is what would happen. The first year, I experienced it all with new eyes and the second year I wasn't quite sure if it would be the same...and then it was. This year, I knew. Fall came and we greeted it like a friend we'd invited over for dinner. We knew it would arrive. It did.

And now, right on schedule, we all have colds.

So I'm up sniffling and coughing late at night, waiting for the tea I drank to kick in and clear me up enough to lay down. It's always a shame because the weather is so great that you want to be outside enjoying it, but instead your stuck inside a cocoon of sinus pressure and sleepiness. Blah. Oh well, it will pass. I know this too.

Last weekend I got out of town for a quick trip north(ish), to Xi'an. Katera and I took a 13 hour night train there and spent a day and a half exploring the ancient capital before returning on another 13 hour night train. It was a really really great trip. I was itching to get out of town for a little while and Xi'an was the last major city that I absolutely HAD to see before leaving China.

Best known to foreigners as the home to the Terra Cotta Warriors, Xian was the capital of China on and off well before Beijing hit the scene. There is a saying in China that "if you want to see the past 50 years of China, go to Shenzhen. If you want to see the past 500 years of China (or maybe 100? I forget), go to Beijing. If you want to see the past 5000 years of China, go to Xi'an." And it's true. There are several really fascinating elements of the city and we were able to see just about everything in our short time there.

Besides the Terra Cotta Warriors (which are actually located outside of the city), Xian was the final point on the Silk Road and there's a thriving Muslim Quarter in the city today. It's also one of the only Chinese cities that still has a surviving city wall that surrounds the inner section of town (The wall even has a moat! So cool.).

It's a city filled with history. And it's the kind of history that makes you excited to be walking on the dirt of the place. To be stepping where people have been stepping for thousands and thousands of years. Since before Jesus.

For some reason during the weekend, I kept coming back to that point. It's funny growing up in the US, because we don't have much geographic reference to really really old things. Our history is a drop in the bucket, a mere couple hundred years. Although the Native Americans may have trod where our feet now tread, we don't have much remaining from their time. And so it's hard to comprehend how OLLLLLDDDD the old things are here. And thus, my mind goes to the best/easiest reference point that I know. The BC/AD split. Somehow, it helps my mind wrap around things....that what I'm looking at is older than Jesus. That if He had felt like traveling, he could have seen these same things that I am seeing now. Maybe He did (up on the rooftop in the temptations...the kingdoms of the world...). It's random and I'm not trying to make any religious point...I'm just sharing that it's one of the ways my mind works.

Anyway, we saw all the major sites. The Bell Tower (where a bell was rung every sunrise) and the Drum Tower (where drums were beat each sunset), the Muslim Quarter (where we ate the local specialty, yangrou paomo, a soup that has lamb and crumbled up bread in it and was really filling) and the Great Mosque (which was really cool and combined Chinese and Islamic architecture/decor in a really beautiful way), the Wild Goose Pagoda (which looked more Arabic than Chinese and was gorgeous in its unique simplicity), the famous water and light show that is the largest in Asia (and reminded me of Opryland Hotel..sorry culture! Globalism got me!), the City Walls, the Subway restaurant (where we had lunch...again, sorry culture! I miss America!) annnnnnnndddddddd......

The Warriors.

What can I say. They take your breath away. Well....err....mostly they do. All of the travel tips about the warriors mentioned that some people come away disappointed from their experience because the access is so distant. You do have to push and shove a little to get a front row view, and you're at a bit of a distance. It's different than the pictures that you see of them. And Chinese museum etiquette is quite "different" (there are other less-nice things I could say here). So, that said, I was prepared for it to be neat, but not great. Thus, I was pleasantly surprised by the awesome grandness of the first pit, the detail of the soldiers and the shear idea of it all.

The discovery is one of those that all little boys (and girls!!!) should read about, because it sends your imagination flying. In 1974 a farmer was digging a well in his fields and his bucket pulled up a terra cotta head. The PRC gave him about $10 (USD) and took over, uncovering one of the greatest archeological discoveries of the century. (Ok...maybe the kids shouldn't get too hopped up on the story because then everyone would end up with big holes dug in their backyards! I seriously kept wanting to walk out into the nearest field and start digging myself!)

The farmer who found the head was ACTUALLY THERE the days we toured. He is really old and now a multimillionaire, he comes into the museum and signs copies of his book for tourists when he feels like it. So although he was initially jipped, he's doing well now. We didn't buy his book, but we were able to get a few clandestine pics of him signing. I can't post pics here on blogger w/this proxy--but I think I'll be able to put them up on Facebook soon.

Anyway, the details of the Terra Cotta Army are well known: no two faces are the same, they were likely made to guard the first Emperor Qin from enemies in the afterlife...or at least, Qin assumed that he'd continue ruling the afterlife just as he did the living, there were probably over 8000 soldiers, most of which are still buried in the pits, they were made around 210 BC etc. If you don't know, wikipedia it.

Mostly, I think I was most fascinated by the story of the discovery. It's just effing exciting! Nearby the pits, you can see the hill of Emperor Qin's burial mound. It is currently impossible to excavate because there are currently no archeological techniques that could ensure preservation and also there's a possible mercury poisoning issue. (again, wiki/google it for more details). It's exciting that there's still more to be found, it's all just waiting there underground.

Next, Katera and I both noticed that the faces of the warriors do not seem similar to the faces of those who we are constantly surrounded by. I have yet to mention this to my Chinese friends, I'm curious if they see a resemblance. But I suppose I don't see many similarities in the portraits of Rembrandt with today's caucasians either.

Finally, my favorite part was a bit macabre...but I really enjoyed looking into the pits where many of the soldiers hadn't yet been pieced back together. Emerging from the dust/mud would be an arm, or a lone foot, or a face. In one the soldier was still mostly buried, but with his shoulders, neck, and head uncovered, and the rest beneath the dirt. It was weird, but all those little bits here and there, broken and strewn about...those were the pits that I couldn't take my eyes off of.

Overall, when I get to see these amazing sights...the sun rising in the mists of the Great Wall, the trees literally devouring the ancient temples of Angkor, the mysterious stone jars jutting up here and there in the plains of Laos, and the hundreds of warriors standing tall and firm together side by side in the orange mud of their pits...I'm just stunned. Stunned that I am seeing it with my own eyes, stunned that I am here, stunned that these sights are now a part of my story. It's extraordinary.

I can access blogs again!

Hello again. I had planned to post updates more often last month, but the internet is blocked in many many different places, and the blocks are playing "pop-a-weasel" with the proxies that we use to get around it all. I just downloaded a new one yesterday, we'll see how long this one works!

It's the day after Moon Festival and the streets and market were quiet this morning; people all moving slowly after a night of feasting under the full moon. There are still countless moon cakes filling the shelves, and it is strange to see them without hordes of shoppers sifting through them all so possessively, trying to find the box that will earn them the most guangxi from the recipient.

National Day came and went too. October 1 marked the 60th anniversary of the founding of the Peoples Republic of China. Beijing apparently went all out with pomp and spectacle while simultaneously tightening it's icy grip on internet and security in the rest of the country to assure control of the news cycle. In the days before National Day, a man peddled slowly down the main avenue of Wuchang with a crookety wooden wheelbarrow piled high with Chinese flags and each tiny shop along the way paid their due and proceeded to mount the ol' red and yellow in whatever way they saw fit: some dangling from twine, some placed in old buckets and then balanced precariously on the doorframe, some just punched into drywall. The cities were told to limit their own celebrations to give Beijing its deserved attention, so as far as I know, Wuhan had a fireworks display along the river and that was all. My students slept in and went shopping. I did too.

And now I'm sitting in the sun of my window seat, drinking coffee and trying to ignore the sounds of a neighbor practicing his recorder and the car horns blaring 20 floors below. Red beans and rice are simmering on the stove and cornbread is warming in the oven for lunch. I bought several art books a few days ago and have been practicing pencil sketches, so the coffee table is strewn with crumpled up papers of mediocre attempts at perspective or shading. My Book is open next to them and soon I will spend some time outlining upcoming Studies for the semester.

I always hear married couples use the line that they can't imagine life without each other. Then parents say that they can't remember what they did with their time before they had children. I always imagined that I'd someday say the same things. I've been thinking today though as I look around at my peaceful apartment and think of my future, that I won't be able to accurately say either. I am 25 and single, which isn't a big deal at all...but I can and must imagine my life without someone else being there. Now hopefully, if I get a husband someday I'll be able to say all the lovely cliched things about how much being together changed my life and allll that..but right now, yes, I CAN imagine my life without whoever he is. It's a good life. I have really fun daydreams of my future, and if no husband comes along to change the plans (which...lets face it, I'm still hoping that the plans DO get changed by someone!), they'll still come true and my life will still be really cool.

And similarly, in these quiet moments with my blog and my coffee and cooking things from scratch and my Book and my silly drawings, I KNOW how I am spending my time before children. I'm trying to revel in it, to enjoy it to its fullest while this chapter is here...because someday when I have kids screaming around me and only have time for Zatarans boxed (or microwaveable) red beans and rice and I don't get to sit and drink coffee because it's time for soccer practice or whatever...I will hopefully know then that I've had my time to myself and that I didn't take it for granted.

I don't know who instilled it in me, probably my mom, but I'm really grateful that someone taught me to not take things for granted. When I bounce up the stairs, I sometimes remember to take a moment and be thankful...right then and there...for knees that don't pop or creak yet and muscles that don't ache from stairs. So I feel that someday, when my knees and muscles don't work quite so well, I'll know that I enjoyed them while I had them. Right now, I can tell that allergy season is on its way, so I try to take deep deep breathes of air and to actively enjoy being able to breathe without difficulty, because once the leaves start falling then colds and allergies will likely come, and I'll miss breathing with ease. And maybe someday, my time will no longer be so much my own, and this chapter of life so luxuriously filled with time and peace and reflection will be passed, and I'm hoping to say that I appreciated it to its fullest.

So yeah, to close this post up: take deep gulps of air, climb some stairs, stretch, draw, read, drink coffee in the sun, cook, blog...do whatever you do...and enjoy.

Round Three

With two years of life in China passed, I now find myself experiencing cyclical moments for a third time and I cannot help but pause and mark the reality of this. Somehow, me…this normal, average person…is beginning a 3^rd year of existence in China. Bizarre. Here are my random thoughts:

1. The simple fact that someone lives in China does not make them intrinsically cool or open-minded or fun. We get treated really special over here, our students give us a lot of attention and typically act as though they might kiss the ground that we walk on…but it doesn’t mean anything. We are not that cool. Some people are very cool people, some people are very interesting people, but moving to China does not automatically grant you any personality value that was not already there within.

2. I miss our puritanical compulsions towards sanitation and order sometimes.

3. I still miss driving.

4. I care much less about the workings of Western pop culture (or did until everyone just came back from a summer in the US and are referencing movies and songs that I didn't know existed!).

5. Yes…but. In a nation of so many billions of people, it is impossible to generalize. For every statement that I have probably ever made (or will make) there is always an exception. Sometimes the exceptions to a generality compose an entire province, sometimes the exception is still larger than the entire population of the U.S., sometimes it seems like an exception simply because “I know a guy who…” Anyway, we all make these statements all the time about “China,” or “the Chinese” as explanations for something or other…and we’re always immediately partially incorrect. There are a billion angles to this harmonious nation, and two years in Wuhan have revealed a few of them…but only a few. Nothing on this blog can give a definitive view of The Great China…just like a foreigner spending 2 years in Kingsport, Tennessee would be not fully equipped to comment on all of America based on that experience.

6. There’s a line in one of my favorite “songs”…it’s an inspirational speech set to music that came out in 1999 or so called “Wear Sunscreen” that says, “live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.” I think about that sometimes as I find my interactions with some veering away from the southern hospitality and gentility of my upbringing. Wuhan is not NYC, but it has more people and is notorious in China for being a city of tough, hardened personalities. The dialect even sounds angry. Though my friends who I’ve met from Wuhan have all been so kind and giving and lovely in every way, a case study of street scenes alone would show a sharp-edged urban environment of people driving hard bargains on the street, working any angle to get ahead, pushing, shoving, and yelling at those who get in their way. Perhaps this urban mentality has worked its way into my thinking, or maybe I’ve just lost patience with some of the more intrusive aspects of being a foreigner here…but I find myself forgoing southern gentility in favor of blunt, direct, forthright assertions these days.

My first year, strangers would walk up to me on the street and ask to “make friends for to improve my englishes.” They’d follow this request with persistent requests for my phone number. Back then, I would politely offer my email address instead, or explain that I’d love to be friends but I’m very busy but maybe they could come to the school’s English corner and see me then, or that my phone was not working so I couldn’t share it with anyone...etc. Now, I just say No, Thank you. If they persist, I say No, Thank you. If they persist louder, I turn, stare them in the eye, and say No. Thank You. (ok, ok…it sounds really bad—but I’m only really really direct when they get really really up in my face—which does happen on a semi-regular basis)

7. I have to fight harder to keep a humanistic worldview sometimes. US and THEM gets into my thinking too often…. it’s just harder putting it all into practice when you’re such the outsider here.

8. Absolutely everything that is done in China can be partially…sometimes fully…explained by the following: There are a lot of people in China. When new foreigners move to Wuhan and are filled with so many “Why?” questions, I'm sometimes tempted to just repeat each time as a response, “There are a lot of people in China.”

9. I’m very very very American. And Southern. It’s deep down in me.

10. This is my last year in China. Of course, nothing is certain, but I feel highly confident that this chapter of life is coming to a close. I’m ready for this to be my final round of things in China and to start considering where the next chapter should be…right now it’s looking like India!

The truth is that along the way, there are days when I am absolutely confident that this is exactly where I am meant to be, there are days when I feel so utterly exhausted by the struggle of life here that I can’t remember why I came, there are days when I think I could stay another 3 years, there are days when I think that it might be best for both me and China if I just quit it all and leave tomorrow.

Before I first came to China, I went and sat on a cliff overlook in SW Virginia that has been a thinking spot for me through the years. I tried to take a moment and enjoy who I was at that precise time, the Lucy-before-China. Because I assumed that moving to a land so completely opposite would have to change me somehow. I didn’t move here for that change, I wasn’t searching for anything; I was just following where I felt I should go.

And now two years in, I’m not sure that I did change all that much. I believe much more in the possibilities of alternative lifestyles (uh….meaning, lifestyles that vary from the typical school-college-work-marriage-mortgage-kids-retirement path that so many of us are taught is the way of life), I am more confident in myself, more sure that it has been His Hand all along doing something with my life, I know myself more… I’ve learned a lot, I’ve practiced a lot, but in all, it’s not something that changed me so much as it’s been something that forced me to put into practice all the things that I have always been. Sometimes I’ve failed at that. There are some weaknesses that have come out in the process that have been given too much time and nutrition that I have to eliminate. But overall, the past two years have been vibrant, crazy, lovely, absurd, and wonderful.

And now I have one more year—round 3—to seize and try to do to the fullest all the things that I came here to do. I have one final year here in China to try to be someone who brings joy into this spot of the world, who reflects light into dark places, who learns to give her time and energy to others. We’ll see how it goes!

This was funny

This is a funny post from Wired.com...which I don't normally read but was intrigued by the title:

100 Things Your Kids May Never Know About

posted by Nathan Barry on the blog "GeekDad." I'm not sure if the link I just made is working (our internet is still royally blocked in all sorts of ways over here)...so if it doesn't...copy and paste this:

http://www.wired.com/geekdad/2009/07/100-things-your-kids-may-never-know-about/

I found it pretty funny and related to a bunch of these...though I'll confess that many of them were just from my days in elementary school before the changes came about. Here were my favorites from the list:

-remembering everyone's telephone numbers
-not knowing who was calling you
-laserdisc (we had one of these in our middle school classrooms....hilarious)
-Waiting for the television-network premiere to watch a movie after its run at the theater.
-Taking turns picking a radio station, or selecting a tape, for everyone to listen to during a long drive (in our family there were no turns....just NPR alllllll the way from Virginia to Texas)
-Using a road atlas to get from A to B. (ok...I still do this sometimes...but yeah, mostly I'm all mapquest when I'm home)
-Blowing the dust out of a NES cartridge in the hopes that it’ll load this time (when electronic things don't work, including my cell phone and macbook, I still try to blow on them...it works sometimes!)

This concerns me:
-Hershey bars in silver wrappers.
Are Hershey's no longer coming in silver wrappers??? What's going on over there????

Anyway...it made me smile. Hope you enjoy the bit of nostalgia. Any additions of your own?