Sorry for the delay in post. I have dozens of excuses, but I don't think you want to hear all of them so please forgive me for taking so long to write to you and thank you for your patience (for the most part...)
Last week was midterms week so you can probably imagine the scene. 50 odd electric blue bundles of nerves zipping through the hall, scribbling clumsy characters on white boards, and ripping out their hair. (Actually, my hair is currently falling out an alarming pace due to stress (I think) so I refrained from the hair ripping.) So, in a word, it was chaos. I experienced mid term week in a slightly different way than most people because my Chinese teachers decided I could move up from Chinese 2 to Chinese 3. That's good news right? Here's the catch, I had 7 chapters between the two classes to catch up on by myself and one week to do it. All of my grades from the first quarter of Chinese classes, which were reasonably good, were cancelled and I start fresh with level 3. I not only had to take my Chinese midterms from level 2 (and do well on them), but also take a midterm Monday for a class 4 chapters ahead. When I found this out, one thought dominated my head and I vocalized it frequently...
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!
As you can see I was a little bit stressed out... ok, a lot stressed out, but clearly, because I am writing this, I survived without throwing myself from the 6th floor window were our SYA classes take place. The midterms were hard, but I think I did ok on them (I haven't gotten them back yet). Unfortunately, the late night studying took its toll and today I came home from school sick.
I would have thought that being sick in a country half way across the world from my friends and family would be a reasonably tramuatic experience. Rather, it has actually made me see the bonds I have made with people here. For example, when I biked home and passed out in bed for 3 hours, I awoke to my baba rushing through the door to make sure I was ok and then proceeding to make me lunch and tea. My mama was equally concerned and would not stop fussing over me until I resembled an arctic explorer with all my sweatshirts, pants, gloves, scarves, and hat. I then waddled back to my room to do homework with repeated check in's from both of them. It may seem silly to you but the fact that they cared so much for my well being really made me feel better. I didn't know you could be happy and be sick at the same time, but it seems to be possible :)
Now, I feel somewhat better, although my mama is convinced I still have a fever. Right now she is edging around the door, surely about to tell me it is time for sleep. I completely agree with her and off to bed I go.
Until Next Time
Jules
Song of the Day:
Clarity By: John Mayer
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Run
I am going to take a short cut in writing this blog post this week. In English class we were assigned to write an essay depicting any kind of trip we have taken while in China. It could be any real trip we have taken whether to another province or to the grocery store, and I choose to write about a run I took one night this month. My teacher encouraged us to be a little bit experimental with our in the essay so this might come across as a little bit strange for some of you. I hope you enjoy it and please keep in mind it is just a rough draft (my title is TBD)... let me know what you think.
Julia Loughlin
English D- Block
Do pg. 56-58 in the character book. Write blog post. Read to pg. 50 in the book. Study for tingxie. Do problems 1-54 on pg. 281. Make up a 2 pg. dialogue. Send generic, ‘everything is great here’ email to friends and family. Study for other tingxie. Go to sleep. Get up. Do it again. This is what my life entailed everyday for my first month in China. I worked, I studied, I preformed the robotic functions necessary to keep my head above the water, but as the days went by, the sleep decreased and my perspective on this experience became more and more skewed. I was overwhelmed, overtired, and I could feel myself slowly sinking in the rising waters. That is why on Friday, the 9th of October, I needed to run.
Running is therapy for me. The sharp tightening of my battered laces, the slow deep strain of stretching my muscles, my iPod sending charged notes through my ears, and those first few steps in which my feet anticipate the distance they are about to cover. The process is therapeutic* and that night as I set off jogging lightly out of my dimly lit hutong, feeling my muscles warm up and my brain shut down, I relished in the routine of it all. After struggling day after day at in classes at school and in making conversation at home, it felt so good to simply be sure of something.
I rounded the corner onto the narrow but crowded bar street, and the roaring night life of the city hit me. I ran past awed tourists who pointed at the crumbling hutongs and sent out bright sparks from their flashing bulbs into the night. I ran past a group of pinstriped Chinese men just out of work gathered around a small game of cards, completely absorbed in each move. I ran past a clearly enamored couple who held each other’s hands in such an innocent and pure embrace, completely oblivious to the world around them. All of this I observed as I ran towards my favorite spot in Beijing.
My running park, as I have named it because it has no name as far as I know, is a 1.5 mile long, skinny strip of grass dividing two main roads inside the second ring road. In comparison with some of Beijing's grander parks like Behai and Jingsheng, it isn’t much, but to me it is the most beautiful park in the world. During the day the park hums with activity. The elderly practice their steady Tai-Chi positions, the children roller blade with shocking agility and grace, and unashamed men and women sing cheerfully as they stroll along. At night, the park takes on a new personality. Its usually crowded and sunlit paths empty and glow eerily in the long shadows. The park benches sit abandoned, and all sound from the surrounding road ways fades away. Stray, dirt stained cats dart between the bushes playfully as if they want me to follow them and stars glint softly in the black sky. At night the park becomes a small, untouched world of its own, set in the busy streets of downtown Beijing, and it is one of the few places I feel truly comfortable. That is why as I saw the first few trees peeked out from the main road, I picked up the pace and ran towards its welcoming familiarity. I ran down the twisting path through the densely packed trees, away from the noise, confusion, and chaos of the world I had just left behind. I had gone down this path so many times before that my frazzled brain knew to shut itself off and let my feet lead the way. Slowly I let go of my deepest concerns. Every deep intake of sweet night air cleared my mind, and each sharp exhale pushed an anxiety out. Each step seemed to smash one of the worries that plagued my mind. No more thoughts of failed tingxies, homework still to be completed, or friends and family I miss. No more worries about the declining economy back at home, or milk crises where I live now. No thinking about miscommunications with host parents or not getting enough sleep. Each of these previously daunting thoughts seemed so insignificant after being crushed by my pounding feet. They all lay shattered on the tiled ground behind me as I moved with confidence through the empty park.
By the time I hit the end of the park and turned around to return home, I could feel clarity fill in the space that chaos had just occupied. I could again begin to see why I came to China, what my goals were, and how short a time this year really is. What had just seemed so overwhelming seemed so clear now. As I glided past the empty park benches and luminescent flowers, I again felt in control. My music coursed through my body as my blood did through my veins with both beats seeming to fall in a steady time. Everything fell back into place and even though I knew I was running back towards a confusing and difficult world, I could handle it. I sprinted to the end of my little park and was reluctant to leave the comfort of its familiar paths, but I knew I would be back soon.
Turning the corner, the deafening sounds, exotic smells, and intriguing sights of the explosive bar street hit me again . The awed tourists had left, probably off to see some new exciting attraction. The pinstriped men has dispersed back to their homes for dinner, leaving only their lonely wooden card table. The young couple was no where to be seen, but an elderly married couple now occupied the bench in which they had sat. The street was the same, but everything was different. I rounded back around onto my hutong street letting the darkness envelop me and the words of my song permeate the now quiet night air:
You gotta swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim
Swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
To some it might not make sense, but in running I remember how to swim. In running I remember how to see clearly, listen carefully, and remember what’s important. In running I remember how to keep things in perspective and not become overwhelmed. So, when everything seems to be falling apart, and my whole world is crashing around me, all I do is lace up my sneakers, plug in my Ipod, stretch out my muscles, and run.
Well that's it folks, I hope you liked it and please let me know what you think!
Until Next Time,
Julia
Song of the Week
Swim (as quoted above) by Jack's Mannequin
Julia Loughlin
English D- Block
Do pg. 56-58 in the character book. Write blog post. Read to pg. 50 in the book. Study for tingxie. Do problems 1-54 on pg. 281. Make up a 2 pg. dialogue. Send generic, ‘everything is great here’ email to friends and family. Study for other tingxie. Go to sleep. Get up. Do it again. This is what my life entailed everyday for my first month in China. I worked, I studied, I preformed the robotic functions necessary to keep my head above the water, but as the days went by, the sleep decreased and my perspective on this experience became more and more skewed. I was overwhelmed, overtired, and I could feel myself slowly sinking in the rising waters. That is why on Friday, the 9th of October, I needed to run.
Running is therapy for me. The sharp tightening of my battered laces, the slow deep strain of stretching my muscles, my iPod sending charged notes through my ears, and those first few steps in which my feet anticipate the distance they are about to cover. The process is therapeutic* and that night as I set off jogging lightly out of my dimly lit hutong, feeling my muscles warm up and my brain shut down, I relished in the routine of it all. After struggling day after day at in classes at school and in making conversation at home, it felt so good to simply be sure of something.
I rounded the corner onto the narrow but crowded bar street, and the roaring night life of the city hit me. I ran past awed tourists who pointed at the crumbling hutongs and sent out bright sparks from their flashing bulbs into the night. I ran past a group of pinstriped Chinese men just out of work gathered around a small game of cards, completely absorbed in each move. I ran past a clearly enamored couple who held each other’s hands in such an innocent and pure embrace, completely oblivious to the world around them. All of this I observed as I ran towards my favorite spot in Beijing.
My running park, as I have named it because it has no name as far as I know, is a 1.5 mile long, skinny strip of grass dividing two main roads inside the second ring road. In comparison with some of Beijing's grander parks like Behai and Jingsheng, it isn’t much, but to me it is the most beautiful park in the world. During the day the park hums with activity. The elderly practice their steady Tai-Chi positions, the children roller blade with shocking agility and grace, and unashamed men and women sing cheerfully as they stroll along. At night, the park takes on a new personality. Its usually crowded and sunlit paths empty and glow eerily in the long shadows. The park benches sit abandoned, and all sound from the surrounding road ways fades away. Stray, dirt stained cats dart between the bushes playfully as if they want me to follow them and stars glint softly in the black sky. At night the park becomes a small, untouched world of its own, set in the busy streets of downtown Beijing, and it is one of the few places I feel truly comfortable. That is why as I saw the first few trees peeked out from the main road, I picked up the pace and ran towards its welcoming familiarity. I ran down the twisting path through the densely packed trees, away from the noise, confusion, and chaos of the world I had just left behind. I had gone down this path so many times before that my frazzled brain knew to shut itself off and let my feet lead the way. Slowly I let go of my deepest concerns. Every deep intake of sweet night air cleared my mind, and each sharp exhale pushed an anxiety out. Each step seemed to smash one of the worries that plagued my mind. No more thoughts of failed tingxies, homework still to be completed, or friends and family I miss. No more worries about the declining economy back at home, or milk crises where I live now. No thinking about miscommunications with host parents or not getting enough sleep. Each of these previously daunting thoughts seemed so insignificant after being crushed by my pounding feet. They all lay shattered on the tiled ground behind me as I moved with confidence through the empty park.
By the time I hit the end of the park and turned around to return home, I could feel clarity fill in the space that chaos had just occupied. I could again begin to see why I came to China, what my goals were, and how short a time this year really is. What had just seemed so overwhelming seemed so clear now. As I glided past the empty park benches and luminescent flowers, I again felt in control. My music coursed through my body as my blood did through my veins with both beats seeming to fall in a steady time. Everything fell back into place and even though I knew I was running back towards a confusing and difficult world, I could handle it. I sprinted to the end of my little park and was reluctant to leave the comfort of its familiar paths, but I knew I would be back soon.
Turning the corner, the deafening sounds, exotic smells, and intriguing sights of the explosive bar street hit me again . The awed tourists had left, probably off to see some new exciting attraction. The pinstriped men has dispersed back to their homes for dinner, leaving only their lonely wooden card table. The young couple was no where to be seen, but an elderly married couple now occupied the bench in which they had sat. The street was the same, but everything was different. I rounded back around onto my hutong street letting the darkness envelop me and the words of my song permeate the now quiet night air:
You gotta swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim
Swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
To some it might not make sense, but in running I remember how to swim. In running I remember how to see clearly, listen carefully, and remember what’s important. In running I remember how to keep things in perspective and not become overwhelmed. So, when everything seems to be falling apart, and my whole world is crashing around me, all I do is lace up my sneakers, plug in my Ipod, stretch out my muscles, and run.
Well that's it folks, I hope you liked it and please let me know what you think!
Until Next Time,
Julia
Song of the Week
Swim (as quoted above) by Jack's Mannequin
Friday, October 10, 2008
Sweat, Blood and Tears! Or Maybe Just Really Bad Hand Cramps...
In my past blog posts I have picked out little snippets from the week that highlight how I am feeling and what I have done during that week. However, this week I will instead tell you a little bit more about a normal school day for me. This is a typical day in the life of an SYA student:
Everyday I arise in the dark at 6 o'clock sharp from my cosy bunk to quickly shower, scarf down whatever pipping hot breakfast my mama has set out for me, and bike to school as fast as humanly possible without getting mowed down by bus or taxi. Each morning I arrive at school at 7 o'clock, tramp up the 6 flights of stairs to SYA's designated hallway, and set up my books for my first Chinese class. Between 7 and 8 o'clock I pour feverishly over my Chinese vocabulary books hoping to God that some of the characters I spent hours scribbling over and over the night before begin to stick. At 8 o'clock on the dot my zhongwen laoshi (chinese teacher) comes in, takes all my chinese zuoye (homework) and leaves us for 10 more minutes of frenzied studying. After 10 minutes, my teacher reenters the room and we all know what comes next. She says the words we come to expect but still dread immensely. "Shang ke. Xian zai ting xie." Basically meaning, class is starting, now its time for your quiz. Everyday we have a quiz dictation in which our Chinese teacher says the pinyin (pronunciation of the Chinese word) and we write the character and English meaning. This may sound relatively simple to all of you back at home, but please do not underestimate the ability of sleep deprived teenagers to completely blank out after hours of studying. It has happened to me on several occasions and it is a highly unpleasant to receive the small dictation book back in my mail box covered in red ink. Anyway, after the tingxie is over class begins and we spend the next 50 minutes answering back and reciting sentences in Chinese. After that, 10 more minutes panicked studying and another Chinese class with another tingxie. So by the time 10 o'clock hits, it feels like a week has gone by rather than just four short hours.
Then what would be the regular school day for most high schoolers begins. I won't go into much detail, but the next several hours entail Honors PreCalc, English, and Chinese History, all of which the teachers expect the most out of you. So when the last bell rings, we each fill our shubao (school bags) with our mountains of homework, square our shoulders, and head home with heads buzzing with an overflow of newly acquired knowledge. Then the real work begins.
Homework is a word greatly despised by almost all students around the world and I am no excpetion. My original dislike for homework has intensified 10 fold since coming here because it means instead of exploring the cities ancient neighborhoods, or visiting the major sights, I sit in my bunk for 5 hours and solve trig, write about Chinese poetry, read about the numerous dynasties, and of course, study Chinese.
Then after the exhausting day, I stumble into my bunk at around 12 and sleep until my alarm goes off and tells me I have to do it all over again.
I realize I probably seem like I am whining, and perhaps I am being a little bit unfair. I am going to school. There has to be work. It is inevitable. I just wish I could figure out a way to manage my time better because clearly the system laid out above does not include enough time for sleep.
Also I do not want this to be read as, "I am overworked, overtired and want to come home" because that simply is not the case. Even though I am working harder and sleeping less than I usually do, I am having the time of my life. There are times during school with my friends or during dinner with my host family that I have the most wonderful moments, and I wouldn't come home even if someone told me that my host school had decided never to give homework again. That's because I know that this work is worth it, however exhausting it may be. I am tired, but I love it here.
So, now it is 12:13 pm on a Friday night and that means time for sleep. I hope whoever you are, wherever you are, that you appreciate this blog post because it is cutting into my already limited sleep time.
Until Next Time,
Julia
Song of the Week
Waking Up In Vegas by: Katy Perry
Everyday I arise in the dark at 6 o'clock sharp from my cosy bunk to quickly shower, scarf down whatever pipping hot breakfast my mama has set out for me, and bike to school as fast as humanly possible without getting mowed down by bus or taxi. Each morning I arrive at school at 7 o'clock, tramp up the 6 flights of stairs to SYA's designated hallway, and set up my books for my first Chinese class. Between 7 and 8 o'clock I pour feverishly over my Chinese vocabulary books hoping to God that some of the characters I spent hours scribbling over and over the night before begin to stick. At 8 o'clock on the dot my zhongwen laoshi (chinese teacher) comes in, takes all my chinese zuoye (homework) and leaves us for 10 more minutes of frenzied studying. After 10 minutes, my teacher reenters the room and we all know what comes next. She says the words we come to expect but still dread immensely. "Shang ke. Xian zai ting xie." Basically meaning, class is starting, now its time for your quiz. Everyday we have a quiz dictation in which our Chinese teacher says the pinyin (pronunciation of the Chinese word) and we write the character and English meaning. This may sound relatively simple to all of you back at home, but please do not underestimate the ability of sleep deprived teenagers to completely blank out after hours of studying. It has happened to me on several occasions and it is a highly unpleasant to receive the small dictation book back in my mail box covered in red ink. Anyway, after the tingxie is over class begins and we spend the next 50 minutes answering back and reciting sentences in Chinese. After that, 10 more minutes panicked studying and another Chinese class with another tingxie. So by the time 10 o'clock hits, it feels like a week has gone by rather than just four short hours.
Then what would be the regular school day for most high schoolers begins. I won't go into much detail, but the next several hours entail Honors PreCalc, English, and Chinese History, all of which the teachers expect the most out of you. So when the last bell rings, we each fill our shubao (school bags) with our mountains of homework, square our shoulders, and head home with heads buzzing with an overflow of newly acquired knowledge. Then the real work begins.
Homework is a word greatly despised by almost all students around the world and I am no excpetion. My original dislike for homework has intensified 10 fold since coming here because it means instead of exploring the cities ancient neighborhoods, or visiting the major sights, I sit in my bunk for 5 hours and solve trig, write about Chinese poetry, read about the numerous dynasties, and of course, study Chinese.
Then after the exhausting day, I stumble into my bunk at around 12 and sleep until my alarm goes off and tells me I have to do it all over again.
I realize I probably seem like I am whining, and perhaps I am being a little bit unfair. I am going to school. There has to be work. It is inevitable. I just wish I could figure out a way to manage my time better because clearly the system laid out above does not include enough time for sleep.
Also I do not want this to be read as, "I am overworked, overtired and want to come home" because that simply is not the case. Even though I am working harder and sleeping less than I usually do, I am having the time of my life. There are times during school with my friends or during dinner with my host family that I have the most wonderful moments, and I wouldn't come home even if someone told me that my host school had decided never to give homework again. That's because I know that this work is worth it, however exhausting it may be. I am tired, but I love it here.
So, now it is 12:13 pm on a Friday night and that means time for sleep. I hope whoever you are, wherever you are, that you appreciate this blog post because it is cutting into my already limited sleep time.
Until Next Time,
Julia
Song of the Week
Waking Up In Vegas by: Katy Perry
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Breathe
1 month.
Friday of this week will mark my first month in China.
It that possible?
I feel like I have been here mere days. Everything goes by in a rush of blinding colors, sounds, and smells. I have been so on the go- between class, weekend school trips, and adventures with friends- that I didn't notice the time flying by me. However, this week I am slowing down a little and I am truly absorbing Beijing.
This week marks the 59th anniversary of 'shiyi', the Chinese national holiday commemorating October 1st when Chairman Mao declared the Peoples Republic of China and China's 'liberation'. It is the equivalent of America's July 4th except it's during the school year and everyone gets the whole week off. I can't say I'm devastated I have no school. :)
So I started off my 'shiyi' holiday by biking to school at 9am on Saturday morning to see the capital museum and Confucian and Lama temples for a history class trip. Yes, it was somewhat distressing to have to go to school the first day of my vacation, but by the end of the day I was so completely blown away by what I had seen, that the fact that it was a school trip had no significance. The capital museum was interesting but it was the temples that really took my breath away.
The temples are giant, traditionally structured Chinese buildings with vibrant colors and magnificent halls. Their intricately designed roofs house wonderful statues of Buddha's, Confucian scripts, and various god's and goddesses. At the Lama temple there is the biggest Buddha I have ever seen (yes it is bigger the the Buddha at the Buddha Bar in NYC). From standing at the very tips of its over sized toes and craning my neck as far back as it could go, I still struggled to see the ornately carved features of his face. In short, it is huge. With the dozens of richly colored silk scarves draped around his shoulders and the intoxicating clouds of incense rising slowly from the ground, I found myself a little bit mystified and overwhelmed. It was easy to imagine several hundred years previous, worshippers kneeling at the feet of the peaceful giant, hoping he was listening to their prayers.
Sunday I awoke even earlier to go to school which most might think would be an odd choice for the second straight day of vacation. But Sunday was no ordinary vacation day. Sunday was my high schools sporting competition, and SYA students had to compete. Luckily for me, I was not one of the volunteered number who had to leap, throw, and sprint for SYA pride. Instead, I watched and cheered proudly for our class as we took home the silver overall, quite a feat considering SYA has only won once in its history. It may be cheesy, but it really did make me happy to see my classmates do so well and come together. We all got a little closer :).
Monday I spent enjoying all of Beijing's best parks with my friend, and then the next day my host family took off for a two day vacation to our laolao's (mom's mom). I have mentioned her before and we spent the two days relaxing, eating (a lot), and just enjoying each other's company. To me, it was a little bit bittersweet because it reminded me of family gatherings at home and it made me have a few pangs of homesickness. Not to worry, I quickly got over them and my chinese family kept me highly entertained. Perhaps the best part of the trip was Tuesday night. We went walking after a ridiculously large dinner and found ourselves in a little park. A park in China is not in any way, shape, or form, like a park in America. Yes there are trees and flowers and paths, but then there are the 50 odd people lined up in the middle dancing to traditional Chinese folk music. Yes, you read that correctly. In the middle of these parks there are an odd assortment of young and old, family and friends, dancing and watching, people who come to parks to let loose. There is always a DJ with a giant set of speakers playing very loud traditional music and the people listen and dance. I was thoroughly enjoying the watching and listening aspect of this excersize, but my family would not have it. My host aunt, a seemingly stern but genuinely friendly lady, pulled me on to the dance floor and she meant business. So in front of the crowd of 50 or so fascinated Chinese people, my aunt taught me to dance. At first I was mortified. Everyone stared at the funny little 'waiguoren' (foriegner) with two left feet. After a while though, when the steps became slightly less mechanical and the stares started to fade away, I began to enjoy myself. Thoroughly. My aunt led me around the park, twirling and dipping as we went, and I couldn't help but get into it. If you ever visit China, you must try to go park dancing.
Lots of other interesting things happened since I have written my last post, but I have to go to sleep now and the stories can be told another time. Before I retire to my bunk, I want to say this. A month here has already done for me what no other country/program/experience could ever do. I am learning something invaluable here- how to be comfortable and confident wherever I go. One month in and I already feel comfortable riding the buses, subways, and my bike around the city. I am not scared to have awkward or difficult conversations due to language barriers anymore because I know if I try hard enough I can get my intention across. It's been a month and I am really settling into life here. I love Beijing.
Until Next Time
Julia
Song of the Week:
See the World by: Gomez
Friday of this week will mark my first month in China.
It that possible?
I feel like I have been here mere days. Everything goes by in a rush of blinding colors, sounds, and smells. I have been so on the go- between class, weekend school trips, and adventures with friends- that I didn't notice the time flying by me. However, this week I am slowing down a little and I am truly absorbing Beijing.
This week marks the 59th anniversary of 'shiyi', the Chinese national holiday commemorating October 1st when Chairman Mao declared the Peoples Republic of China and China's 'liberation'. It is the equivalent of America's July 4th except it's during the school year and everyone gets the whole week off. I can't say I'm devastated I have no school. :)
So I started off my 'shiyi' holiday by biking to school at 9am on Saturday morning to see the capital museum and Confucian and Lama temples for a history class trip. Yes, it was somewhat distressing to have to go to school the first day of my vacation, but by the end of the day I was so completely blown away by what I had seen, that the fact that it was a school trip had no significance. The capital museum was interesting but it was the temples that really took my breath away.
The temples are giant, traditionally structured Chinese buildings with vibrant colors and magnificent halls. Their intricately designed roofs house wonderful statues of Buddha's, Confucian scripts, and various god's and goddesses. At the Lama temple there is the biggest Buddha I have ever seen (yes it is bigger the the Buddha at the Buddha Bar in NYC). From standing at the very tips of its over sized toes and craning my neck as far back as it could go, I still struggled to see the ornately carved features of his face. In short, it is huge. With the dozens of richly colored silk scarves draped around his shoulders and the intoxicating clouds of incense rising slowly from the ground, I found myself a little bit mystified and overwhelmed. It was easy to imagine several hundred years previous, worshippers kneeling at the feet of the peaceful giant, hoping he was listening to their prayers.
Sunday I awoke even earlier to go to school which most might think would be an odd choice for the second straight day of vacation. But Sunday was no ordinary vacation day. Sunday was my high schools sporting competition, and SYA students had to compete. Luckily for me, I was not one of the volunteered number who had to leap, throw, and sprint for SYA pride. Instead, I watched and cheered proudly for our class as we took home the silver overall, quite a feat considering SYA has only won once in its history. It may be cheesy, but it really did make me happy to see my classmates do so well and come together. We all got a little closer :).
Monday I spent enjoying all of Beijing's best parks with my friend, and then the next day my host family took off for a two day vacation to our laolao's (mom's mom). I have mentioned her before and we spent the two days relaxing, eating (a lot), and just enjoying each other's company. To me, it was a little bit bittersweet because it reminded me of family gatherings at home and it made me have a few pangs of homesickness. Not to worry, I quickly got over them and my chinese family kept me highly entertained. Perhaps the best part of the trip was Tuesday night. We went walking after a ridiculously large dinner and found ourselves in a little park. A park in China is not in any way, shape, or form, like a park in America. Yes there are trees and flowers and paths, but then there are the 50 odd people lined up in the middle dancing to traditional Chinese folk music. Yes, you read that correctly. In the middle of these parks there are an odd assortment of young and old, family and friends, dancing and watching, people who come to parks to let loose. There is always a DJ with a giant set of speakers playing very loud traditional music and the people listen and dance. I was thoroughly enjoying the watching and listening aspect of this excersize, but my family would not have it. My host aunt, a seemingly stern but genuinely friendly lady, pulled me on to the dance floor and she meant business. So in front of the crowd of 50 or so fascinated Chinese people, my aunt taught me to dance. At first I was mortified. Everyone stared at the funny little 'waiguoren' (foriegner) with two left feet. After a while though, when the steps became slightly less mechanical and the stares started to fade away, I began to enjoy myself. Thoroughly. My aunt led me around the park, twirling and dipping as we went, and I couldn't help but get into it. If you ever visit China, you must try to go park dancing.
Lots of other interesting things happened since I have written my last post, but I have to go to sleep now and the stories can be told another time. Before I retire to my bunk, I want to say this. A month here has already done for me what no other country/program/experience could ever do. I am learning something invaluable here- how to be comfortable and confident wherever I go. One month in and I already feel comfortable riding the buses, subways, and my bike around the city. I am not scared to have awkward or difficult conversations due to language barriers anymore because I know if I try hard enough I can get my intention across. It's been a month and I am really settling into life here. I love Beijing.
Until Next Time
Julia
Song of the Week:
See the World by: Gomez
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