It's been a while...

I've been meaning to blog for days but my internet service has been out. What was originally meant to be several seperate articles will now be joined into one long piece.

First the life news:

I started school on monday. All of my classes so far have been great. My main Chinese class has roughly thirty students, and it grows larger everyday. Many students in the lower class skip up, while students in the other class at the same level switch because they don't like their teacher. I'm now in class with two of my UW classmates, so I have more brains to remind me what homework assignment to do. I sit in class three hours every morning, and I love it! My only complaint is this: I am constantly distracted by one of my new classmates. If he was a young, rich, handsome, rich man it would be understandable. I can live with that kind of distraction. Unfortunately, he is none of the above. No, the guy that distracts me looks like Kim Jong Il. I know he can't help it, but if he'd get rid of the perm it would go a long way.

And the weird news:

I spent most of last week going on adventures with various Chinese people. One of my friends wanted to invite me over to have coffee. Every time I talk to this friend she wants to know if I know how to make coffee syrup like Starbucks, when I'll learn to make coffee syrup like Starbucks, and whether or not I've found a place to buy coffee syrup like Starbucks. One day last week she called and asked me to come over so we can make coffee together. We've talked about trying to make homemade syrups, so I told her I'd pick up the ingredients and bring the French press along the way.

That afternoon I set out on my bicycle for Sabrinas, the only place in town where you can buy Western goods. I was riding my bike on the right side of the road, dodging people, bikes and cars, when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a yellow Chinese mini-car flying towards me. He was trying to make a turn onto the small lane I was passing. I hate using this cliche, but when I say everything moved in slow motion, everything really moved in slow motion. The yellow car came speeding towards me. I started to turn the wheel of the bike away from the oncoming car. Suddenly, the car was a foot from my foot. I cringed waiting for the impact. The bumper (thank God it was a mini-car and not a bus!), slammed into my lower leg knocking me off the bike and onto the pavement. The car screeched to a halt and the driver started to open the door. As soon as he saw I was moving and apparently not hurt, he sat back down, waved and sped off. I stood dumfounded that neither I nor the bike were damaged. And then I stood in the middle of the road shaking and laughing like a madman. I was just hit by a car!!!

I somehow made the rest of the trip to Sabrinas, bought my groceries, and met with my friend. The plan for the day was to take a trip to IKEA, where we would pick up a coffee maker for her and then head home to make the treat. IKEA was awesome as always, and we found the coffee makers right away.

One of the greatest things about IKEA is that they sell American style hot dogs, Chinese food and ice cream. They also sell cheap coffee and licorice. I ended up with several bags of coffee (you can never have too much), and a bag of candy. My friend hated the licorice, which meant more for me!

When we arrived at my friend's apartment, she went to the kitchen and pulled out another, larger coffee maker that her husband had recently acquired. The problem is, she explained to me, they don't know how to use it. Then I had a weird China moment: teaching my friend how to use a coffee maker. I always assumed it was instinct that taught man how to make coffee, or perhaps it's just Seattle. Either way, that evening grew more interesting as I ended up showing her how to use a spray can of whip cream, and explaining that vanilla extract may smell sweet, but it doesn't taste the same way.

All I could think about that day was that I had just been hit by a car and walked away. I didn't want to tell my friend because from experience I knew she would try to baby me. The Chinese have been incredibly helpful and kind to me, but they are often too helpful. For example, today my bike chain broke and six people ran over to help me fix it. They all grabbed for a chance to hold the bike or reset the chain while I stood to the side and made like I was trying to help. Six people!!

After that day I thought my life in China couldn't get any weirder, but it soon did. That week my Chinese roommate started work again, meaning her students are back in school. From what I gather, most of them returned home during the winter break. Now that they're all back in town, they're back trying to kiss up to their teacher once again. EVERYONE has stopped by our place at least once, and everyone brought a box of some regional specialty. Most of these have been mysterious dried meat products, but some are candies or fruit. My roommate has also been home a lot, and everytime she cooks she makes some for me. It all started with the chicken feet noodles. She made a large bowl of pasta and despite my prostests, forced me to eat some. In the middle of the meal, her phone rang and she got up to go and find it. I seized my opportunity when I saw it. I quickly shoveled all the chicken feet back into the serving dish and was done arranging them so they looked "natural" just in time to see her walk back in.

The next day someone brought over several vacumme-packed ducks. The small refrigerator we have was filled with them, and everyday my roommate urged Sarah and I to eat one. I like duck, but I really don't know what to do with it. Sarah and I discussed making soup, salad, or eating it plain. We finally decided on making duck sandwiches. We waited until it was just the two of us at home, then we got to work. We chopped off the head, pulled the skin and fat away from the meat, and then made grilled duck sandwiches. They turned out surprisingly good. We've been craving Western food a lot lately. Every night after we eat, we sit around the table and discuss the foods we love and hate. Most nights we sit for an hour or so dreaming of what we will eat when we return home.

Later that week, a cold pot of chicken innards and seaweed soup appeared on the table. Although it looked awful, after much urging we promised my roommate we would eat it. When it was just Sarah and I at home, we dumped the pot, making sure to hide the solid parts deep in the garbage.

Again, my Chinese roommate brought home some weird food for me to eat. This time she was more sneaky about her intentions. "Do you like Indian food?" She asked.

"I love Indian food. It's one of my favorites."

"Oh great! There's a doggy bag on the table for you to eat."

The fried rice in the doggy bag looked like Indian food, it even smelled like Indian food. But when I tasted it I found it full of Chinese spam-like products and another unique Chinese creation called "meat floss." When it was noticed that I hadn't eaten the leftovers, I discretely took the container to my room and dumped it deep in the garbage.

It's taken nearly two weeks of covert operations to get rid of all the weird food in the house. It started with a rotting fish in the fridge and ended with "Indian" food. Hopefully everything is better now. We're all busy with school and work, so life should be back to normal. Finally.