Rain.

Rain in China is different. Right now, as I type this, a raging storm echos outside. I swear the thunder is louder here. Like a windshield in a car wash my living room window blurs perception with rain. It has been five straight days of on and off rain. I thought it rained a lot in Ireland little did I know that China had Ireland beat. Especially at this time of year when it is monsoon season. An umbrella becomes your new best friend because you never know when a downpour will strike next. 

Downpours are not the only experience offered during Monsoon season. From the wisdom of Forrest Gump, “One day it started raining, and it didn’t quit. . . . Little bitty stingin’ rain... and big ol’ fat rain. Rain that flew in sideways. And sometimes rain even seemed to come straight up from underneath.” Do not mistake me though some days it clears and the sky offers up blue sky and white fluffy clouds which, let’s be honest, are few and far between in most parts of China. 

However, unlike back in the states, rain does not relieve the pressure of humidity. You may step out of your apartment seconds after a downpours and still your lungs will become heavy from the unrelenting moisture. Moisture that is so heavy a swim through the atmosphere seems highly probable. Or the moisture is so much you are hesitant to move too much. 

I thought rain would not faze my chinese friends but I was surprised to find out rain is treated almost as if it is snow. Students are late to class, a friend waited for an hour and a half to escape the rain. Most Americans would become too stubborn and just go, but lets face it, most of us are nice and safe, warm and comfy in our cars. Most of my students bike to class. It amazes me they can balance their bike while holding an umbrella for themselves. However it does become an annoyance when only four students turn up to a class of 30. 

That being said thunderstorms are great motivation to write and become lost in thought. Everything seems richer in rain. Greener, more vibrant, more their natural color. 

When it is necessary to go out in it it is always an adventure and an imagination conjurer. The other day, I walked home from class and realized the bike stands on campus have a similar plastic covering our (my roommates and I) sunroom in Ireland had. Hard blue plastic you would not think able to hold up the roof of a home. I stood under it, the bike rack in front of my apartment. For a second, just for a second I was transported back to Ireland and our shared dinner table in our sunroom. Our laughter, happiness, last minute studying and dinner parties. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

(insert motorbike alarm-- the same alarm that drove Lily and Robin nuts while waiting for the wedding dress shop to open on How I Met Your Mother) 

I snapped back to reality and realized how much thunderstorms would now remind me of China. . . . Thought filled Sundays with nothing to do, naps, comfort, the heat, wet skirt hem from walking to class, deserted campus during downpour. Soon China will be the second place I will fondly remember. 

"I am the worst man you will ever meet. . . . but I am the happiest."

A little over a month left of my time in China. It has been fast and slow all at the same time. As it gets closer and closer to the end it becomes harder and harder to admit I am not coming back next year--especially to my students. (I am convinced my boss gave me the best students these last nine weeks in an attempt to convince me to return next fall).

In little ways I have conquered China. It no longer intimidates me. China is not a complete mystery anymore and I am thankful for this. I have learned a little about a new place and realized, except for China’s unique eccentricities that make it CHINA, it is still a place. A place full of people who have the same needs and wants as me.

Except for some massive loans I have to figure out, it would not be unheard of if I came back next year. However, that is the known option, the easy option, the comfortable option. I would know what to expect. My future looks a lot like it did last summer: unknown. So just like last summer I know I have to try.

I have to try out many things. There are many possibilities. To write, to sing, to swim, to bake, to work for a non-profit, to look at jobs across the U.S. The next year will be a year of exploration. If something sticks, it sticks. If not there is always the world. God knows I will try until the day I die to see as much of it as I can. Thus, after China, I will be in the land of unknown and will not return to China. . . . at least not for the next year.

All right enough of the inner/outer(?) monologue. This post is to tell of two Americans’ adventures in Chengdu and Dali (April 29th-May 5th). Maggie, a fellow Mary Knoller, and I met in the Chengdu airport. We wanted to make sure we were able to see the Pandas of Chengdu and the province of Yunnan, our students speak so much about, before we leave for the U.S. Our first day was travel logged. After a bus and cab we made it to the Hostel for pizza and a nap. Afterwards we immediately made plans to see the pandas the next day. Then it was onto the Irish pub for Egg rolls, Samosas, and Beer.

Day one of Chengdu was packed with Pandas, or at least the first few hours were. In the van on the way there we met Clara a student from Chongqing. She told me she goes to Southwest University (The university I would have taught at if I did not choose Mary Knoll. The same university MANY CSB/SJU alum teach at. I had to ask her). . . . “Who is your English teacher?” “JOHN MURRAY.” She responded (the all caps was my embellishment). “That is my friend,” I told her, “We studied in Ireland together!” Both Clara and I could not believe how small China became in that moment.

The pandas were more entertaining than I expected especially because I HELD ONE. I spent way too much money to do so but it was for a good cause. It was soft and cuddly and I half expected it to maul me. But really it was not heavy at all. The only down side was that we barely had a minute with it before it was the next person's turn.
[5/20/12 7:54:12 AM] Catherine: Maggie and I went on to try our first sichuan spicy food. Have to say that the spicy noodles--in no way-- prepared us for the food that was to come. Since Chengdu is a major city, 30 million people, we had to hit up Starbucks but not without a visit to Mao on the way. The people’s park was next-- a nice park but the best part was the singing geriatric participants in military-like aerobics performance in celebration, of course, of May day. The tibetan street was our next stop where we bought jewelry galore and were serenaded by three minorities playing traditional instruments. The day ended with some more shopping at Uni Qlo, H&M and the BEST mexican food I have had in China. What can I say?

Our last day in Chengdu was full of walking. We visited the catholic church where contemporary architecture met Chinese. All the while not realizing, until the end the whole the church, chapels and lodgings were structured to form a cross. Next was the SPICIEST FOOD EVER. We had to try the famous Sichuan Hot Pot. Due to a paper menu full of Chinese characters-- no pictures no PinYin-- and a lack of known chinese words for vegetables our waitress invited us to the kitchen and we choose what we wanted to eat. We liked the La but not the Ma. I have no idea what spice the Ma is but it makes your mouth numb.

As for this hot pot’s spiciness. . . . hmm well let’s just say it never stopped being spicy. We tried to walk off the spice and found the Art museum to be closed so we went on to the AiDao Nunnery. We were lost on the way but it was the best lost that could happen. We found a market of all things “ancient China.” I was determined to find a simple jade ring. I thought I found it but the man wanted 30 yuan for it! I did not want it that much. Then the fun began. He insisted on me buying it. All of the men around him selling other things became involved, semi surrounding us, causing a traffic jam with a woman who wanted to move her bike, all the while speaking to us as if we were fluent in Chinese. We slowly walked away and said thank you and good-bye. Then we remembered and went back to ask for directions to the nunnery. What a way to find where you are going.

Historical places, especially in China, can be disappointing. Tourists can build up too many expectations or when hidden falsities are found the illusion is shattered and meaning is lost. The nunnery did not do this. It was too full of life. Du Fu’s cottage however was basically a park where, possibly, a 8th century poet lived and gathered inspiration for his famous poetry. My glimmer of hope was the excavated and displayed ancient pillars of the former pagoda. Another stop at Peter’s Tex Mex for our last fix of western food and then it was on to DALI in the morning!

We got up at the butt-crack of dawn to make our flight to Dali. We arrived in Dali and were greeted with a breath of fresh air quite literally. Dali, maybe all of Yunnan Province, is where all the beauty of China is. Met our driver Li in Arrivals--he will be a constant in our Dali story. We made it to Five Elements, met Jeanine, So-so, and their two GOLDEN RETRIEVERS (who Maggie and I mauled). Groggy from sleep we dropped our bags and took a nap until So-so woke us up for lunch. Lunch was beautiful. Hopefully it will be similar to the one I will cook for my family when I return to MN. Full of flavor, greens form their organic garden and sauteed tofu.

Maggie and I wasted no time. Tie-dye factory that afternoon, lake tour the next day, and mountain climbing on Friday. Oh, the Tie-Dye factory. . . . Li was our driver again to a small village about 30 minutes away. He stopped and we were greeted by a tie dye shop. Oh no, this is not what we expected. We politely looked around for 10 minutes or so and then--thank god Maggie’s Chinese is much better than mine-- the woman showing us around took us to where they stitch, dye, dry and cut the tie-dye. Okay, now we will buy something. It was great to meet this tie-dye woman though. We got a picture with her and she was almost too shy to do so. We stuck around for 40 minutes or so-just talking. We learned her Grandmother, Mother, Her and her sister all work together.

Afterwards, we told Li, through broken chinese and pantomime, we wanted to walk around the little village. It was the China I expected. Hilariously he took us to another tie-dye store where we were attacked by a pushy saleswoman. Maggie caved in and bought one. My earring became caught on the scarf she put on me. While I tried to fix it Li and Maggie started to freak out and tell the woman, “No, no, hold on.” Apparently the woman was coming at me to help me out. The problem was that she was coming at my ear with a pair of rusty old scissors. Needless to say we left as fast as we could but not without making her take a picture with us.

We walked away laughing and told Li NO MORE TIE-DYE. “Okay, okay,” he said.  We tasted our first of the famous Bah-bah (the local bread of sweet or savory ingredients). Then we walked around the local market of beautiful produce and mysteriously disappearing bunnies. The night was made up of dumpling making at the Hostel where we met the third worker in our hostel Jessie. Then a walk around old Dali town. Since Dali is so beautiful there are many tourists who open business. One of the local businesses was the Bad Monkey Restaurant and Bar. It goes without saying we frequented it every night.

Thursday boasted a beautiful day that caused a little sun-burn, beautiful views of ErHai Lake and great new friends. The tour was Li driving us around the Lake. No boats were involved, to our surprise, but for good reason--to protect the lake no boats are allowed on the water unless it is fishing season. More markets we experienced as well as many little villages. The best was a local restaurant Li took us to. We had chicken and vegetables, sauteed peas and green beans, flowers cooked with eggs and Yunnan CHEESE. Another nap, shopping, and dinner at the Bad Monkey closed off the night.

Friday-another beautiful day. The climate in Dali is a lot like Colorado. We began to climb the mountain after a touristy, but necessary, chairlift ride to the start. Hiking in China is always paved and set so we diverted whenever possible and climbed rocks, I put my feet into the streams and picked up all the trash I could. It was a difficult climb at times but it was pure bliss. After an awkward chair lift down-- a Chinese couple were fighting which resulted in Maggie and I awkwardly trying to keep up a load conversation so we did not have to listen to the girlfriend sniffling.

Our vacation was almost over, then. . . . the Bad Monkey happened. We spent the night with micro-brews, dancing, French guys, Chinese girls, a man who claimed he was, “the worst man you will ever meet, but I am the happiest.” Maggie and I tried to feel him out and he turned into one of those harmless characters you meet in a bar. He told us the same story at least four times and bought us plenty of beer. I have to admit though he did get everyone up in the bar to dance. It felt great to stay up until three. Especially when it was because of good beer, good conversation, dancing and music. The only problem was the flight the next day. I returned to Jiangmen happy to have more colorful memories. However it was learned: NEVER travel by plane while hungover.

"Long Time No See. . . . "

Or at least that is what my students say as they greet me after our MONTH LONG (for me a little more than a month) winter vacation. I am equipped with a new schedule and new students. I am psyched. I’M BACK. Back in Jiangmen and I can say this now, with complete confidence, Jiangmen finally REALLY, feels like home. I have my routine which I mix up if necessary. I have mastered the art of filling time with dancing, talking, reading, writing and surfing the Internet (as the Chinese do). I have my local haunts but I hope to find new ones this semester. My produce lady still hangs around. As well as the AMAZING Zongzi pot. 

The first weeks back have gone on without a hiccup, except for a fall down the stairs that has left me with a a rolled ankle, a trip back to Hong Kong, and an “air cast.” I will heal. . . . slowly. Injury aside it is already the third week of the semester! Hopefully this pace keeps going. I struggle with myself because no matter how great my friends, my students, my adventures and CHINA are I am ready to be home. I cannot wait to be back but I do not want to cheat myself out of a great semester because I am too focused on the future. (yes I do realize how contradictory this statement is when I also post it on my Facebook with the date of my return) 

Now. . . . for some fun and because I have been gone for a while, I will talk about the places I visited while on break!

VIETNAM: FOOD. GoCong Town. Phuong. Table as a bed. Hammock. Naps. New fruit. Beauty. French influence. French bread. French homes. Peeled paint. Salamanders. FOOD. Cold noodles, egg rolls, veggies, and fish sauce. Vietnamese coffee with SWEETENED and CONDENSED MILK. Fish market. Friends. Hair salon. New hair style. Hair wash. Massage. Lunch at the Hair Salon. FOOD. Karaoke at T and Amy's house. Tour of Mekong River Delta. Coconut juice. Fruit with salt. Amy’s school performance. HOSPITALITY. Fried fish. Cold showers. Drinks at the new local club. Neon lights. Bus rides. Touched by an old man. Touched by an old woman. (They liked my white skin) Ho Chi Minh City for one night. Markets. Shopping. Central post office. Movie theater. No crosswalks. More buses. Hugs. Goodbyes and Happy New Years said. 

I really cannot thank Phuong and her family enough. 

BEIJING: NICK and KATIE. COLD. COLD. COLD. REALLY COLD. Use that Mandarin. Great hostel. Candied strawberries on a stick (twice). Tian anmen Square. Forbidden City. Hutongs. Summer palace. THE GREAT WALL-- all to ourselves. Peanut butter for Joe. Climbing. Climbing. Climbing. Cold. Outside all of the time. The NEW YEAR. Peking Duck. Upset stomachs (from the Peking duck). Fireworks everywhere-- on every street. New Year Fair. CROWDS. Unknown meat. Cheap beer at the hostel. Laughs. Cards. Chinese food. Korean food. And then there was Coldstone (twice). 

THAILAND: PARADISE. Beaches. Pineapple and Singha. Singha. Singha. Good beer. Getting lost on the way to the hostel. Thai Hospitality. FOREIGNERS. Elephant riding. Alex = terrified. Beach lounging-- on the sand. In chairs if we could evade the “chairs salesmen.” Dinner out every night. PAD THAI. Fried rice. THE BEST SMOOTHIES EVER. Seafood. Phi Phi Island (Yes it is pronounced PEE PEE). The worst boat ride ever= too many waves, more than 40 people, blood, a trip to the hospital (not for us), four puked, smelling herbs to calm our stomachs. SNORKELING. Millions of colorful fish. Beautiful fish. Fish you only dream of seeing. Jellyfish stings. Grabbed by a Lady boy. Old men with young women. Rum and Bomb our bartenders. Sunsets. Sunburns. A stuffed elephant. I want to live here. 

That was my vacation. Yes I do love to capitalize things for effect or just cuz’. If I was not in one of these three places I was in the Mary Knoll house in Stanley Hong Kong indulging my self in good food, fast Internet, nights out dancing and good times. I promised my dad this post would not be a novel like the last so there it is. I have to go to a 9pm night class now.