the end.

Savored every word of this:

[pic]

and now it feels like my China life really is over. Peter Hessler has written three books on China: River Town, about his two years teaching English as a Peace Corps volunteer; Oracle Bones; and this one. Meegs and I read River Town in our first weeks in Huai'an and would process certain experiences with help from the book: "Well Pete says his students did that too..." or "Peter refused the medical exam's x-ray so we can too," and it was quite the moral support. Reading his other book while in China and some of his many articles, I acted like he was my personal friend, wandering through Beijing's hutongs and thinking, "Oh, Pete must have lived around here..."

You can always use an imaginary friend.

deo adjuvante non timendum*

One afternoon last week Kate & I went over to the Academy to check out the renovations, and mourn the loss of the bowling alley; D111, aka Dill (study hall); The Pit (lunch room); and of course, our youth & athletic prowess.

Then last night Molly picked me up on her Vespa (for the 100-yard ride to campus) to attend a reception for Pat Dunlay. If I haven't paid verbal homage in your presence, let me tell you, I love that woman. Dunlay is brilliant, exacting, and a tough feminista you don't want to disappoint. Her College Composition class remains one of my fondest memories of high school for the way she commanded and inspired creativity, excellence and fear within us every single day. Her instruction and encouragement led me to take writing seriously and she's certainly on the list of top five influential people in my life.

Dunlay was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago, and has had to retire from teaching English at St. Teresa's after 21 years. I was afraid to see her in a vulnerable condition, but she looked good last night. By the time Molly and I got to the reception it was winding down, but we were immediately recognized and greeted by name by cool dude social studies teacher Mr. Whitney (we probably each had him for one semester? (The Kelly name must stick with him for the open retaliation against left-wing-indoctrination a certain father reader rallied. (You're reading Howard Zinn?!))), then by 70 (80?)-something math teacher Dr. Joe, and of course, Ms. Dunlay herself. It was truly special to be remembered by such a disparate delegation of our four years there, and made me grateful to be a part of St. Teresa's fine Academy.

the quad seal. don't you dare step on it.
(but you may kiss it, as Jessie and I did one nostalgic post-grad Christmas break)


*Hopefully you all know that I am fluent in the very useful language of Latin, and can tell you the STA motto is
With the help of God we need not fear

gleeking out big time

I'm ready. T-minus four hours.

preservationists

There’s been a flurry of public outcry around here amid discussions of tearing down historic buildings (namely the Balcony Building on the Plaza and the old Cosby Hotel downtown). People are very upset that our urban “fabric” is being ripped at the seams to make way for nondescript office buildings and parking lots.

European travels gave me an appreciation for what building preservation does for urban and cultural “fabric,” even if it isn’t the most economically sound approach. (“The whole continent’s a musuem!” as one of my few readers would remind us.) But Chinese travels made clear what a loss of rich cultural heritage destruction and rebuilding can bring. Granted, these two buildings in Kansas City are not at the mercy of Mao’s Red Guard in the thrust of the Cultural Revolution, but, I've just been thinking.

All I wanted to say though is: let’s get some more McMenamins brothers in the world.

These guys have made a habit of purchasing dying historic buildings and resuscitating them as places everyone wants to go to--BARS--while preserving them admirably. The old Catholic school in Bend is now a B&B, restaurant, theater, and a couple different pubs in different nooks and crannies of the school grounds. (Lest you fret about the Catholic education of the youth, St. Francis School moved to a new campus in another part of town so we could go to concerts in the Fr. Luke Room and smoke cigars in O'Kane's, the former school's garage.)

Kennedy School in Portland
[photo]

in Bend

[photo]

Fr. Luke Room at Old St. Francis School

[photo]

consolation

"It's a fucking--fucking--bitch to try to create anything worthwhile."

--my second favorite Missouri Jesuit,
glass of bourbon in one hand,
cigar in the other,
on my current writing project

"the world makes you feel so small"

-- "Citywide Rodeo"

wǎngbā

Unbelievably, it's been a year (and one day) since Megan and I arrived in Huai'an. We arrived to two one-bedroom apartments in the same building, despite our adamant request to live in one two-bedroom apartment together. We'd also been told the apartment would be well-stocked and that we should pack as if going to a hotel. Unfortunately, we followed that advice, and slept poorly, me in my cocoon and Megan on her yoga mat (yeah, it flew across the Pacific), together on top of the one double bed in the upstairs apartment. No sheets, towels, soap or toilet paper to be found. (After informing the school we'd like to live together in the upstairs apartment and we'd need another bed in there, we slept in that same double bed for two whole months before the second bed showed up. Ohh, sister bonding.)

When we woke up and collected the courage, some hours later, to step outside into our new neighborhood,we embarked on a search for an internet cafe. (Because the computer in the apartment was not yet equipped.) The guide book glossary indicated anything having to do with internet looked like two Xs in a box: 网

We made it to the main campus gate, retracing the path of the car the night before when we'd been dropped off. Bicycles rolled by, bells dinging; cars careened, horns blaring; people walked, people sat, people pulled carts, people pushed carts, people, people, PEOPLE. This is what one billion feels like.

It's funny to recall how we marveled at crossing that street, wondering which of us would die first and when; how baffled we were by the intersection, picking out landmarks and remembering which way we turned and how far we walked. It's amazing how adaptable humans are: we quickly learned, and liked, to play chicken with the traffic and soon recognized the regulars at that intersection, crossing and recrossing it every day to catch the bus or get noodles.

Around that corner we did find the box with two Xs. With no attempt at verbal communication by either party, we plunked down some cash and the wǎngbā/网吧/internet cafe attendant turned on two computers for us, behind a cluster of gaming Chinese boys. While we sat waiting for the machines to get going, I tried convincing myself we didn't get swallowed up by an alternate universe on the opposite side of the planet. This tiny speck of a town teeming with humans was the center of the world. I'm not lost! my inner self cried out. I'm right here! I still matter, right?! Just look for me on a map, you'll see! Through the jet lag, exhaustion, overstimulation, fatigue, and yeah I'll say it, fear, something popped. Not metaphorically, something actually made a popping sound down the row. One of the computers had caught fire. It sparked and smoked, and flames licked the jumble of wires.

OhhhhMG..........do computers explode?!?

We didn't want to find out. We pushed our way through chairs and back out to the sidewalk. A small cloud of smoke billowed. Some of the gamers had escaped with us, but others farther from the fire carried on. We had read that some internet cafes don't allow foreigners because of the high incidence of fires. Huai'an didn't see enough foreigners to have rules about them.

Just a few shops down was another box with two Xs. We downloaded Skype.

We made it.

lost

Currently MISSING:
a best friend/sister, several Midwesterners, a few East Coasters, a couple West Coasters, a couple south of the border, two Southern belles, and at least a dozen Zhongguoren

Please come back to me.

EPL

Despite all hype and my affection for the story, I have not gone to see the Eat Pray Love movie, and from the few reviews I've heard and read so far, I don't think I'll go anytime soon. It seems the movie turns Elizabeth's quest for independence and self-actualization into an international manhunt, and if that is the case, I must ask the producers, "Did you even read the book??"* Twisting the story into yet another one of woman's-search-for-man-to-make-her-happy is an insult to the book's message, and probably Elizabeth Gilbert herself, not to mention, like, so totally 20th century.

So take that! I wasn't excited about you to begin with, Julia Roberts, and the eye candy visuals and lineup of crushes is not nearly as compelling as the introspection and insights the book offers. Bah humbug.

That's what I have to say about that.

*Please note that I have not seen the movie, which makes this a mostly uninformed opinion, which is the kind of opinion in fashion, right? If my inference is off base, please advise.

just acting my age

Phew. Thanks, NYTimes mag. I wasn't worried, but maybe some people I know are/were.

What Is It About 20-Somethings?

the gist:

"The traditional cycle seems to have gone off course, as young people remain un­tethered to romantic partners or to permanent homes, going back to school for lack of better options, traveling, avoiding commitments, competing ferociously for unpaid internships or temporary (and often grueling) Teach for America jobs, forestalling the beginning of adult life.

The 20s are a black box, and there is a lot of churning in there. One-third of people in their 20s move to a new residence every year. Forty percent move back home with their parents at least once. They go through an average of seven jobs in their 20s, more job changes than in any other stretch."

i love wisconsin

that's all.

ohmyladygaga

A couple nights ago we celebrated mum's birthday with a night on the town. The plan was to enjoy happy hour and tapas at Extra Virgin, a new-ish, "hip" spot in the Crossroads. We pulled up to see the radio station's van parked out front. Megan hopped out to investigate.

M enters Extra Virgin, looks around.
Radio Station people sitting near the entrance: HI!
M: hiii..
Hostess: HI!
M: hi. Do you..have an event going on here tonight?
Hostess, thinking, isn't that why you're here?: ..Yeah..
M: Uhm..
Hostess: Iiiit's... the Lady Gaga pre-party?

Megan came back to the car and we quickly concocted a Plan B. (R Bar anyone?) But yes, Lady Gagme herself descended on downtown KC Tuesday night. Of course the appropriate response to such an event is, "OHMYLADYGAGA!" -- the popular phrase amongst Chinese youngsters as a variant of OHMYGOD. "Because...," one of my students explained, "Lady Gaga is so famous. Like God."

homemade

The other night Megan and I made the version of Mexican dinner we created in Huai'an, complete with broiled peppers, homemade salsa and homemade tortillas. (There ain't no Pace Picante or Mission tortillas in China, peeps.) We'll save the refried pintos for another time; last night we opted for the can of whole beans.

The tortillas are delish. I hope I never go back to buying them. Our friend Amorita probably has some insight on this topic, but I'll go ahead and share the recipe so you can try it out, which hopefully you do.

In other kitchen news, our cousins' Cooking Club started on Monday, with an attempt at our favorite summertime Chinese lunch, cold noodles. Didn't go very well. We'll have Allie pick next week's menu.

* * *

Flour Tortillas
Adapted from Low-Fat Flour Tortillas
by Ninfa Gonzalez Soltero, found via TexasRollingPins.com

Ingredients:
3 cups unbleached flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
4 Tbsp. butter
about 1 1/4 cups warm water

Mix the dry ingredients together. Cut the butter into the mixture. Add the warm water bit by bit and knead until the dough is soft. Pull dough into 12-14 small dough balls. Let sit for 10 minutes.

On floured surface, roll out each tortilla. They'll be lovely homemade shapes, perhaps reminiscent of Spanish-speaking countries if you're weird and bored while rolling.

Over medium heat, warm the tortillas one by one in a dry pan. The top will begin to bubble; flip the tortilla and let it bubble on the other side. (This only takes a few seconds; it will have nice brown spots when it's ready.)

Voila!

The penthouse kitchen table in Huai'an. Homemade salsa by Megan; Uruguay, Colombia and friends by yours truly.

does a body good

A few days ago Allie, my mom and I drove north to Fair Share Farm to help out for a morning. We started out picking kale, and bunching the leaves for the share boxes that'd get picked up later in the day. Then we moved on to the tomatoes, trimmed and cleaned garlic, started putting together salsa packs, and then hopped in the back of the truck to go out to the bean field. The 96-degree heat wasn't so bad with the steady breeze, and we all appreciated a solid morning of solid work. It's good (and so fun!) to get up close and personal with your food.

Allie in the beans

In addition to farmhanding, Al & I have been doing some yoga. I love an enormous sweat in a hot yoga class. It feels good to feel good.

(For the record, Patron doled out by a young dad at the Peanut does not do a body good after a night of charity event's cocktails. I should stick to farming, yoga and one breed of intoxicant per night. I miss my youth.)

my dad takes me on the best dates

Just about exactly a year ago we went to see Neko Case at the Uptown, which was awesome of course. (And it was his idea because he's that much cooler than me.)

A few nights ago we headed towards downtown to sit on the rooftop at Hamburger Mary before heading to the Tivoli to see Micmacs.

Being, like, out of the country and stuff, I had no idea what Micmacs was, and didn't do any googling before we went, but if you like the quirk and piano of Amelie, I think you'll like this one too (same director). Lots of laughs.

feels good to be home*

Dad: You know the first thing your mother's going to say when she walks in the door.
me (hopeful, cappuccino on the brain): "Wanna go to the Roasterie?"
Dad: Nnno....
me: uhh...
Dad: "Where are we going for happy hour?"

*more on that later

"you brought all this just to spend one night??"

-- Lucy Andrew, spunkiest first grader in Shanghai.

 

We packed up on Sunday and moved out of our Huai'an penthouse on Monday amazingly smoothly; the only obstacles were our disbelief that the time had come and our lack of motivation to do anything about it. The other teachers will be picked up at the apartment, driven to Shanghai and be put up in a hotel by their school later this week. We woke them up to say goodbye on our way out and were lucky to have Tim and Thomas awake enough to carry some bags out to the front gate, where we caught a cab the 3km to the bus station, where we loaded onto a bike taxi to the steps of the station, where Vence met us to join the spectacle and help us carry everything to the gate. 

 

Teary goodbye, last sights of our city, and a six hour bus ride later we got to Shanghai. It was "mei you, mei you" at the train station for our tickets to Gansu, and on top of schlepping six bags across the province and some bully taxi drivers, we were terribly relieved to pull up to the tranquil cul-de-sac of the Andrew family's home here on the Pudong side of Shanghai. Lucy sat on the porch watching us unload our lives onto her sidewalk and followed the above question with, "Are you going to change like every second?!" The St. Louis natives are kindly hosting us, and mostly our belongings while we set off for a last exploration, before flying outta this country on the 30th.

 

Since the train plan didn't work we booked flights leaving tomorrow morning, and even though we spent an extra night here, we're gaining a day in our original travel plan, getting to Lanzhou a day before the train would have. The itinerary includes the Tibetan monastery in Xiahe, the Mogao Caves outside Dunhuang, sand dunes, and hopefully at least one yurt and/or horse trek. Doraemon, a fave, advised that during this trip, "You should just go have a funny time. Not learn so much." I think we'll do both.

 

So much has happened in the past couple weeks, and will in the next...I hope I don't forget any of it. 

impressions of the US

Cleaning out my teacher drawer and came upon some students' impressions of the US that I had them write at the beginning of last semester...

• The United States is a democratic country. The American advocate freedom. In my impression, the American like to eat fast food and they are very white. The United States is a developed country.
• I like to see American moive, in particular the moive made in Hollywood. They're very perfect and cool.
• It's a young country, for China. It's democratic country. Most of Americans thinking are open. Many Chinese people want to American. Because they thought many chance in American.
  
• rich
• The United States is located in the middle of North America. Canada is in the north of America it's capital is Washington. There are about 30,000 people in America in 2006. American people are friendly, humble, romantic, general and easy-going. Compared with Chinese people, American people are independent especially pursue equality
• America has 50 continents
• I haven't been to America, but I think they are rich and friendly. One day if I have chance, I will go and have a look at it. That would be a nice thing.

greatness

along our 4.5 hour hike from 金山岭 Jinshanling to 司马台 Simatai. Zip line at the end!

The Chicago visitors spent three full days in Shanghai, two days here in Huai'an and then five days in Beijing. My class could not contain their excitement about meeting three new Americans. It wasn't until a week later that I realized what an oddity it was to have five non-Chinese people standing in one little classroom in a nothing college in a nothing town in the great big country of China: an actual once-in-a-lifetime experience for most of those kids. But, a cool thing for the visitors, too, to be able to meet and talk and play basketball with a bunch of Chinese students on their whistle stop tour of the Middle Kingdom.

We had looked forward to having these visitors for so long that we didn't spend much time looking beyond their trip to our own rapidly approaching trips out of here. The good-byes have already started, which I can't believe. In just a few days we'll head to Shanghai and set off for Gansu Province, then be on homeward bound planes June 30.

You CAN do a-n-y-thing for ten months!

tomorrow!

These faces will be together! Can't wait. Weekend in Shanghai (luxuries, here I come! fried goat cheese, soup dumplings, and proper beer to name a few), special guests in class next week, and then overnight train to Beijing for more of that Great Wall and Mao worship.

It's all downhill from here.

(There's supposed to be a picture of me and KATHLEEN up there but I seem to be having technical difficulties.)