I’ve been thinking a lot about Hawaii lately. It sounds kind of silly because I’ve never actually been there, but I’ve been saying to friends since I was a kid that I was going to live there when I grow up. I think I’d make a great citizen of Hawaii; I grew up on an island, I’m a fan of Hawaii 5-0, I’m eager to learn Pidgin and I want to become a surfer. I have a fondness for shave ice, and enjoy hot weather, swimming pools and beaches. My dream career (besides cold noodle stand operator) is surfer by morning, shave ice vendor by day. I’ve even looked up graduate programs at several schools in Hawaii. They’re not very highly rated, but for an excuse to live in Hawaii, does it matter?
I’m going home in ten hours. I’ve been trying not to count the time all day. Finals week was tough as usual, I’ve developed a new appreciation for the American university system and grading on a curve. Each class has an exam, and each exam requires a good long cram session. I’m taking seven language classes and three culture classes. I’ve written four fairly good sized papers in the last two weeks and started an online science class. Everyone I’ve met here wants to take me out for a farewell dinner and give me small gifts to cram into my overstuffed suitcase. I’d love to have dinner with everyone, but the fact of the matter is that I just don’t have the time. The most important dates I had crammed all into two days. Yesterday I went to lunch with a student and a couple of hours later went to an SU hosted banquet. Today I ate breakfast with one friend, lunch with another and dinner with yet another. Despite this there are still a number of people I would have liked to see before I left. Even if we aren’t best friends, saying goodbye gives me a sense of closure for this year.
I’m happy and I’m sad to be leaving. I’m really excited to get started with my life in Seattle again. Living in China feels like I’ve been living in some sort of alternate universe where everything back home remains exactly the same. It’s hard to believe that my house has been remodeled, my sister had a baby, and my friends have made all new plans for the upcoming year. I’m excited to start school again, although I’m worried that credit transferring, language assessments or something else will not turn out as I like and end up requiring more time from me. I’m also excited to start working again, but am dreading the application, interview and first day of where ever I end up.
I started videotaping China this past week. I suddenly felt a bit of regret that I had not taken any footage of day-to-day China, and wanted to make up for it. I also regret that the journal I tried to keep barely passes page twenty. There’s just so much you can write about and so little time to do it! How do I explain the oddities of China life or the aspects of living in China that grate on my nerves? How do I explain just how delicious and fun it is to try new foods, or just how strange some of our travel adventures have been? What about culture? We talk about cultural differences all the time here, weird things we run into or situations we can’t get out of. We can talk endlessly about China while in China, how am I supposed to share all my thoughts on paper? That was fun, this is weird, I really hate it when they do that, it’s delicious!
Having an entire year to think about future plans has left me feeling up in the air. Perhaps if the time were short I would just make a decision and be done with it. Do I want to stay in China? Yes. No. Do I want to come back? Yes. Do I want to go into business, government, language or none of the above? Yes. No. And then, what about sign language?
I have ideas like moving to Hawaii and opening a shave ice stand. When it comes down to the reality of my idea, I can see myself doing it but not for a long way off. Real life things like money and grades and resumes and jobs and experiences and contacts tend to get in the way or alternate the course. But then, just maybe, I’ll graduate and meet someone who is willing to teach me the secrets of the shave ice business and surfing. Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
2007年7月14日星期六
2007年7月10日星期二
My last adventure on my last full weekend in China
We've been talking for weeks now about making a trip out to the small city of Lezhi for a visit to a traditional soy sauce factory. We read about it in a book somewhere and it sounded like fun, if not a little weird. Last time the group decided to go, the bus hit a motorcyclist and everyone ended up turning around. The blood and guts ruined all the excitement for us.
After discovering that there are in fact two Lezhis, we opted instead to make a trip to Zigong, home of China's salt mines.
Our first stop was the salt museum. It wasn't too exciting, but I did get some nice pictures:
One of our professors made the trip with us, and after the museum visit he insisted that we find Zigong's most famous traditional mine. The Shenhaijing mine tourist trap was located in the middle of a sprawling mass of currently operating salt mines. Rusty pipes and cinderblock buildings surround the tiny complex. We forked over twenty kuai for an English speaking guide (versus ten kuai for one that only speaks Chinese). She first took us to the standard "famous pictures of dignitaries who have been here" room and told us over and over again that we must "enjoy the photos."
The coolest part of seeing Shenhaijing was seeing where the salt is boiled down from the brine. This part of the tour, athough neat, was only set up for tourist's sake. The pillars of salt sat in one corner of the room, and we were all invited to taste it. Then we were hurried to the gift shop for some overpriced bags of table salt.
By far the best, best, BEST part of the day was the famous Zigong dinosaur museum. I'm pretty sure most of the bones in the place were replicas, and the open air dig site looked suspicous too. The place even tried to knock off Jurassic Park, take a look:
But unlike at Jurassic Park, the gift shop was only too happy to sell some dinoham.
In the middle of the museum there was an electronic dinosaur who for five kuai would poop out a dinosaur egg. I didn't have any money, but I conned Sarah into buying one. It took several tries to get an egg out, but in the end it was totally worth it.
We also found these funny named dinosaurs:
And while there I gained some architechteral inspiration. When I grow up I want my house to look like this:
After discovering that there are in fact two Lezhis, we opted instead to make a trip to Zigong, home of China's salt mines.
Our first stop was the salt museum. It wasn't too exciting, but I did get some nice pictures:
One of our professors made the trip with us, and after the museum visit he insisted that we find Zigong's most famous traditional mine. The Shenhaijing mine tourist trap was located in the middle of a sprawling mass of currently operating salt mines. Rusty pipes and cinderblock buildings surround the tiny complex. We forked over twenty kuai for an English speaking guide (versus ten kuai for one that only speaks Chinese). She first took us to the standard "famous pictures of dignitaries who have been here" room and told us over and over again that we must "enjoy the photos."
The coolest part of seeing Shenhaijing was seeing where the salt is boiled down from the brine. This part of the tour, athough neat, was only set up for tourist's sake. The pillars of salt sat in one corner of the room, and we were all invited to taste it. Then we were hurried to the gift shop for some overpriced bags of table salt.
By far the best, best, BEST part of the day was the famous Zigong dinosaur museum. I'm pretty sure most of the bones in the place were replicas, and the open air dig site looked suspicous too. The place even tried to knock off Jurassic Park, take a look:
But unlike at Jurassic Park, the gift shop was only too happy to sell some dinoham.
In the middle of the museum there was an electronic dinosaur who for five kuai would poop out a dinosaur egg. I didn't have any money, but I conned Sarah into buying one. It took several tries to get an egg out, but in the end it was totally worth it.
We also found these funny named dinosaurs:
And while there I gained some architechteral inspiration. When I grow up I want my house to look like this:
2007年7月3日星期二
It's been a long time!
Wow, I didn't realize it had been so long since I've written last! These past couple of weeks have been crazy, and the next couple of weeks will be too. I'm taking final exams next week and am trying to finish up three papers, pack, see all my friends and go home! I leave here on the fifteenth, so I now have less than two weeks left!
Despite the short time I'm still up for some Chinese adventures, although my motivation is waning. Last week Sarah, Deborah and I decided to go and get a "cupping" massage. We all went out to dinner and while we were talking, someone began to discuss the funny bruises they had seen on one of the locals. We'd all heard of "cupping" before and seen the marks on people to know it was more than just a crazy Chinese myth. Suddenly it hit me-- we had to go and try this before we left China! I turned to Sarah and mentioned the idea, thinking we would put it off until another date when we had summoned up sufficient courage to go. Another person at the dinner table piped up and mentioned a massage place nearby where they had been once. Before any of us could chicken out, it was agreed that we would go as soon as the meal was done.
Stuffed full of Chinese food, we waddled on down to the twenty-four hour massage parlor. The place itself was kind of shady, the front room was full of massage beds laying end to end. We were taken out the back door, and then up to a small apartment that had been converted to a massage parlor.
The massage itself wasn't bad. It definitely wasn't a massage for comfort, it hurt. The cupping was preceded by a treatment called "gua sha." Basically, after the massage the masseuse scrapes your
back with something that looks like a shoehorn. He scrapes long
enough that after a couple of minutes, we all had stripes across our backs that still haven't healed. After this was completed they brought out glass bulbs
which they lit a fire inside to suck out the oxygen. About a dozen
bulbs are placed on your back suctioning up your skin and leaving HUGE
round bruises. Sarah and I returned home that night and looked in the mirror; we looked like victims of torture.
Despite how the pictures look, it really wasn't painful. It was awkward and weird, but definitely not painful. I woke up the next day pretty stiff and sore, and we've all been wearing tee-shirts instead of tank tops to hide the extent of our injuries.
We rode home from the 24-hour massage parlor in a massive lightning storm. Perhaps God was trying to tell us something...
Despite the short time I'm still up for some Chinese adventures, although my motivation is waning. Last week Sarah, Deborah and I decided to go and get a "cupping" massage. We all went out to dinner and while we were talking, someone began to discuss the funny bruises they had seen on one of the locals. We'd all heard of "cupping" before and seen the marks on people to know it was more than just a crazy Chinese myth. Suddenly it hit me-- we had to go and try this before we left China! I turned to Sarah and mentioned the idea, thinking we would put it off until another date when we had summoned up sufficient courage to go. Another person at the dinner table piped up and mentioned a massage place nearby where they had been once. Before any of us could chicken out, it was agreed that we would go as soon as the meal was done.
Stuffed full of Chinese food, we waddled on down to the twenty-four hour massage parlor. The place itself was kind of shady, the front room was full of massage beds laying end to end. We were taken out the back door, and then up to a small apartment that had been converted to a massage parlor.
The massage itself wasn't bad. It definitely wasn't a massage for comfort, it hurt. The cupping was preceded by a treatment called "gua sha." Basically, after the massage the masseuse scrapes your
back with something that looks like a shoehorn. He scrapes long
enough that after a couple of minutes, we all had stripes across our backs that still haven't healed. After this was completed they brought out glass bulbs
which they lit a fire inside to suck out the oxygen. About a dozen
bulbs are placed on your back suctioning up your skin and leaving HUGE
round bruises. Sarah and I returned home that night and looked in the mirror; we looked like victims of torture.
Despite how the pictures look, it really wasn't painful. It was awkward and weird, but definitely not painful. I woke up the next day pretty stiff and sore, and we've all been wearing tee-shirts instead of tank tops to hide the extent of our injuries.
We rode home from the 24-hour massage parlor in a massive lightning storm. Perhaps God was trying to tell us something...
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