quiet cab, huh...

Earlier this evening I took a new Chengdu cab. They are sleek and shiny and more expensive. At a red light, I noticed that the inside of the cab was silent, a large difference from the older models.

I'm pretty sure the driver noticed me notice the silence of the cab. Immediately, we were deep in a silence contest. Having practiced mightily in my youth against stiff competition at MacKenna's Restaurant, I was prepared. The red light must have lasted 30-60 seconds, tops.

It was quiet.

Sure, I heard noise coming through the open passenger window, but inside the cab I could have heard a kuai fall.

Right before the light turned green, I turned my head slightly, making a slight rustle with my hair against the seat. It was finished. I had lost.

A half-step later, the driver shifted his hand on the steering wheel, and the silence was officially over. A few moments passed, as we settled back into the noise, then he let go of the clutch and we moved on.

what the f.

Let's get the facts straight.

1. It's October 8th.
2. I live in the desert...supposedly.
3. Some people still argue that global warming is a myth.

Yeah, it's snowing right now. Freaking my stuff out pretty bad. Not quite prepared for this type of weather, considering the time of year that I thought I had signed on for.

I'm pretty pissed I washed my camera. And that Li Fengyang and Hu Yanqin's are out of batteries.

Use your imagination:
A wet street surrounded by monotone beige buildings. Thick snowflakes fall, then melt on the ground, making it indistinguishable from rain, other than the fact that it's difficult to see 200 yards away. No one looks any different, clothing wise...they treat it like visible rain. I, meanwhile, have on every sweatshirt I own and my slicker. Not too shabby, albeit I look like the Michelin man.

I'm still in shock.

Life is amazing. Thanks global warming!

snazzy tracksuit

In addition to being trained in the illustrious art of volleyball, I have been given, along with everyone else, a tracksuit, a basketball uniform, and sweet kicks.

Here is a picture of me modeling my tracksuit, in the bad-ass way that I model.

Here's Xiao Long and Hu Yanqin in theirs. Not as bad-ass, but pretty sweet.












Please, please pick up on the self-deprecating sarcasm here.

volleyball

During the past few weeks, all the da weis (or workgroups) in the city have been practicing. For what, you ask? Sports Day. Oh yes. To begin the National Holiday, the city of Yanchi holds a sport day. There is basketball, pingpong, running, and of course, volleyball.

I was given the option of volleyball or basketball. Lord knows I wasn't going to play basketball after spraining my ankle, even though I'm probably better at basketball (which means I'm horrifically bad at volleyball). So I went down and met my teammates. We had 2 practices every day, and it was like being back in elementary school.

Kids, excuse me, adults were running all over the place. They would sit out when they got tired. Some of them complained while we were warming up. My favorite was when the men would smoke in the middle of a scrimmage. It was clear that I, as the American, was taking this competition must more seriously than anyone else.

Not that I'm competitive or anything...wink.

The pinnacle of my frustration came when our da wei's basketball team came over and challenged us to a game. Now at this point, I will say that many of our good players weren't at this practice. So we were playing, and not listening to each other, and one man was running around into everyone else's space. We lost 2-1. I was pissed.

But I let that rage go, and realized that I just need to try my best, and do the best that I could.

The contest was supposed to be held last Friday, but was postponed due to rain for tomorrow. Let's hope my team brings their A game. I know I will.

dryclean only

Well, I was wasted, as I am apt to be on a Sunday afternoon, and had spilled something down the front of my Mayhew hoodie. That is alright. I can deal with that. But in washing the said sweatshirt, I left my digital camera in the pocket.

The camera came out spotless...and non-functional. This before my week of vacation where I was going to visit the legendary Xixia Tombs. Frustration abounded. Luckily, I returned from my trip and the thing would turn on, even if the buttons wouldn't work. If there's some way to get past the date/time setup, I should be in business, just unable to browse my pictures on the camera.

Here are some descriptions of pictures I wanted to take.

• The view from the top of Chuangsi Ta, demonstrating that Yinchuan looks like every other Chinese city. Worn out apartment buildings and offices spread out before you like, well, every other Chinese city.
• A bus driver smoking as he drives, with a do not smoke sign directly over his head.
• Evidence that the dogs in Yinchuan eat a ton of corn, and do not effectively chew it. (Maybe not a picture on this one...but I saw these little presents every where in the city.)
• Yinchuan does not only have the first waterslide park (admittedly defunct) I've seen in China, but also the only mini-golf course I've seen. I would have played a round, but where's the fun of playing without friends?
• A picture of the best pizza place in China...Robin's Pizza. Imported mozzerella, imported meats. It was real pizza, not the kind you can get at a buffet in China. Pretty impressive for Yinchuan, if you ask me.

But now I've entered into my last week here in Ningxia, and it's certainly bittersweet. I'm ready to go home, but also I've hit my stride here. I'm comfortable, I have friends, my alcohol tolerance is through the roof...life is good.

dance off?

I, for one, never imagined being embroiled in a dance off. It brought images of Britney and Justin (albeit when they were a bit more innocent) dancing for respect in some L.A. nightclub.

A few weeks ago, that all changed. After dining (and drinking, of course) I met a man and a woman at the restaurant who wanted to drink with me. He was a banker from Yinchuan, and she was a teacher in Yanchi. We played drinking games, took pictures, then my friends and I left for the KTV bar downtown.

The man and the woman were invited, and we were soon dancing all together. The great thing about dancing with the Chinese is the complete lack of self-consciousness that abounds. They are not dancing to be seen, they are dancing to dance. It's a lot of fun.

Soon everyone had sat down except the banker and me. We were both dancing furiously, and it had begun to take on quite an aggressive feel. By the end, when I sat down to rest, I was hustled outside by friends, and we walked home.

It was told to me then that I had been involved in a dance off. Unbeknownst to me, the woman had taken a liking to me, and to defend his honor, the banker had been, to quote Michael Sambell0, "Dancing like [he] never danced before." Clearly, the rhythm of my Anglo-American body put him quickly to rest, but it was a good contest. I'm just glad my friends got me out before we experienced the results.


ps-This picture is not of the banker and I, but of Zhang Bo, a good friend.

wow...hiatus. and soda.

I figure at this point no one is reading this blog, and for good reason...not posting in a month in a half (two months?) will wreak havoc on a person's readership. But some things I have come across recently need to be commented on.

One of the first happened when I went out the country for a celebration with the director of my company. I'm often dragged along so the clients can see that this organization has real clout. I mean, what more could you ask for than a big (for China) bearded foreigner? As the festivities began, things were traveling along the same old path. Baijiu and beer were produced, and the jinging (or showing respect by toasting the person and both of you drinking) began. Then the games began.

This is where things took a turn for the weird. We were drinking with a few people from my organization, and probably 8 farmers, half men, half women. The women, instead of drinking baijiu or beer, procured liter bottles of soda (Future Cola, an even nastier version of Coke), and proceeded to drink that.

Now at first, I enjoyed seeing the use of such a vile beverage (second only to baijiu) as a punishment. It seems to me that a drink with that much sugar should only be used for such a teeth rotter of a torture. But as the night went on and these women farmers drank more and more of it, I began being unable to imagine drinking that much soda. At a certain point, they called over their children to help them out. It was bizarre to seeing kids helping their parents out in a drinking game, but they enjoyed it. But only up to a point. After two glasses of sugary goodness?, he decided he'd had enough and refused to drink more. Score one for health.

Things in China have been going well, and I'm sorry that I haven't been writing. But life is good. In less than 2 months I'll be back in the States. I already miss it.