Guangzhou Bound

Once again, the school neglected to organize the in-our-contract trip. Actually, it was a case of "yes, we are going to Zhaoqing" to "no trip" within four days. Zach and I refused to be bound to our apartment for another Golden Week, thus we headed to the big city of Guangzhou to reunite with Shaun and explore a new city.

Due to Mid Autumn Festival coinciding with Golden Week, it was an unprecedented eight days of freedom. With such a lengthy holiday, it was a mass exodus. The sight at the front gate was mayhem at 9am, and it became worse as buses continued to be delayed. Our initial 8:30am departure turned into 12:30pm. However, it was the fastest bus trip ever to Guangzhou, arriving in five hours rather than the expected seven. I believe the driver was on a time crunch.

Our first evening in Guangzhou was spent enjoying pizza and a walk along the Pearl River, enjoying the festivities associated with the Mid Autumn Festival. This is one of the most popular festivals within China, with the overabundance of moon cakes, family meals, many variations of the fable tale behind the holiday and tons of lanterns. There are two forms of lanterns; one is the oragami-ish cyclinder shape, carried on a stick, while the other is a large framed bubble which floats through the air. The latter has been highly discouraged since the open flame can cause problems should the lantern crash before the flame extinguishes. Nonetheless, they are beautiful to watch float through the sky.

After our evening constitutional along the waterfront, we returned to Shaun's apartment (aka, the awesome dorm room.) Upon our arrival, Shaun commented that we would get to know each other rather well over the next couple of days. We were initially perplexed by the statement, but after seeing his quaint apartment, we completely agreed.

It is the perfect bachelor pad and the see-through bathroom (directly beside the front door) made for some funny jokes and jabs. It took some coordination, but awkward naked moments were avoided.

Audrey's French Braid

I stretched my piecing capabilities with this quilt, but I am really pleased with the final outcome. This may be one of my favorites, and not just because it includes yellow fabrics.

Mayor's Banquet

Within the Crowne Plaza, Zhanjiang's ritziest hotel, we once again found ourselves gussied up for an evening toasting, dining and schmoozing with the upper echelon of the city thanks to the annual mayor's banquet. It was fun to be a second year veteran of the event as we knew other attendees and the general flow of evening. Plus, we remembered to mingle pre-meal as the Chinese have a dine and dash mentality. Though, this year was buffet style which was extremely conducive to meeting and greeting.

Highlights this year include Barbara (a fellow teacher who has been in China for twenty years) being seated next to the mayor. Her embarrassment was evident, but the funniest part was her hunger pangs were fierce before the feast and being at the head table meant she did not get to eat because everyone wanted to talk with her. The majority of us left sated, while she trudged to her apartment to rustle up some food. She was rather jovial about the situation considering the grumbling stomach.

Another was a chance meeting with a French expat, Maxime, who is the pastry chef for a local shop, Honey Talk. It is the closest thing to a coffee shop that we have and we gushed our thanks and appreciation for its establishment next to Walmart. A few minutes later, he brought the CEO over for introductions. Subsequently, we were invited to a grand opening of another bread store, which we enthusiastically agreed to attend.

Initially, we thought this event was a thank you for expats investing within the community. However, this year it became apparent that was not the case as Chinese outnumbered foreigners and many praises of China rang throughout the banquet hall. After some quick deductions, we quickly realized that it is the local annual celebration of communism in China and somehow we merit an invite. Whatever the reason may be, cheers to the mayor for hosting such a fabulous celebration.

Mondays

Apparently, all girls want a little pampering after a rough Monday. 

Morning Memories

A couple times a week, as morning dawns, the smell of fresh baked bread wafts through our apartment. Jokingly, it was Zach's anniversary gift. The truth is that good bread is hard to come by in China. We made the decision to make the purchase and have been thoroughly enjoying the bounty from our newest addition. Breakfast has always been a favorite meal of ours and we have found a reason to enjoy it together more often. Some mornings Zach whips up his infamous eggs, others we just enjoy a spread of jam, bread and fruit. Morning memories, I am so thankful for them this year.

The Cat's Table

That was a small lesson I learned on the journey. What is interesting and important happens mostly in secret, in places where there is no power. Nothing much of lasting value ever happens at the head table, held together by a familiar rhetoric. Those who already have power continue to glide along the familiar rut they have made for themselves.

So we came to understand that small and important thing, that our lives could be large with interesting strangers who would pass us without any personal involvement.

Cartopia

While we were in Portland, many friends continually raved about the food cartopia craze within the city. It was there before we left, but since our departure it has continued to flourish. Though we did visit a couple during our stateside stint and did enjoy the food, we were never overly crazy. While walking in town the other day, I fully realized and understood the cause of our lackadaisical attitude.

We live in the ultimate food cartopia.

Everyone eats on the street, everyday. It is not a fad. It is a way of life. If one wants to eat, you go to the street. (The best food is usually found in the pop up stands.) Depending on the time of day will determine what is available. It is fascinating and exhilarating, as the options are always changing. As I contemplated this thought, it made sense why Zach and I loved eating in restaurants stateside, for we do not really know to dine within the confines of four walls anymore.

The Many Looks of Mooncakes

Due to the lunar calendar this year, the Mid Autumn Festival coincides with China's golden week. Rumor has it that we will have an extra long holiday thanks to this anomaly, but at this point it is still a rumor. (Though, we are scheming about travel options.)

Since the holiday is three weeks away, mooncakes have hit the store shelves is abundance. They are the Chinese equivalent of the American fruit cake; given to everyone but not something people like to eat. Today, we bought a handful of the cheap variety to do a Banker-style taste test. Over the years, the best one I have had was peanut butter (and I am secretly hoping that we "accidentally" chose a bunch of peanut butter ones.)

The greatness of a mooncake gift really lies in the extravagant packaging. There are the types that are sold in bulk, but the majority of those given are held within elaborate means. Boxes adorned with traditional Chinese poetry. Tins painted with elaborate artistry. I really love the variety this year, as most incorporate the Chinese dragon since it is the year of the dragon. I can spend hours perusing and appreciating the creativity of these gift sets. Plus, most have the added bonus of English, which tends to be so wrong and so funny.

Geography

The knowledge of geography is a lost skill for most of the world, but we find our Chinese students are some of the worst. Tonight we had some former students over for dinner and to reconnect, regaling tales of our respective summer. Somewhere in the stories, the aide of our large China was needed. It was hysterical to watch these two students try to find a city with no sense of direction. Eventually it was found, but only after a lot of laughter and chiding.

Zombie Apocalypse

The zombie apocalypse will resemble freshman orientation at a Chinese university. This week was utter chaos upon Guangdong Ocean University. If I was not dodging a gaggle of giggling girls, who kept pointing and shouting "hello," I was flitting through traffic jams, gesturing to drivers to pay attention to the road rather than me as they nearly rear-ended the car before them. There were many stares. Many parents, who upon sighting the foreigner, would start hitting their kid's arm and pointing, all while saying "It's a foreigner! It's a foreigner! Say hello!"

The funniest encounter was at the swimming pool. The way the pool is situated, people can watch swimmers from the road on the northern end or there is a gate on the southern end. Every so often as I swam my laps, I would notice a crowd staring from the road. When I finished my workout and was stretching (in the pool) at the southern end, I watched a freshman boy and his family walk by the gate. He was lagging behind, saw me and did a double take but kept walking. Ten seconds later, the entire family backed up and stared. I waved and said, "nihao." They walked on, only to backtrack a second time. More gawking. More pointing. Another greeting. They walked and backtracked again! They did this four times. I finally had enough and starting yelling at them in English. They quickly trotted on and did not return.

The lower level of the main building was nothing but a mass of humanity, tour buses, sign-toting uniformed greeters and a huge stockpile of military uniforms, which distribution reminded me of Robin Hood: Men in Tights. We were on campus last year for freshman orientation, but we have no recollection of it being such mayhem. We have heard that there is a significant larger number of freshman this year, but do not know any numbers. Whatever they may be, it was a foreshadowing of a zombie apocalypse for they just kept coming and coming and coming.

Rat!

The battle to reclaim our apartment has been ongoing and vicious. If I am not (Chinese) Windex-ing ants (or even overkilling them with Raid roach spray), I am thwacking spiders of ridiculous sizes. Our campaign amplified this weekend when it became apparent that a new species had entered the fray.

It began with a nibbled banana on the table and grape hulls scattered around the kitchen counter. Our suspicions were confirmed the next morning when, once again, a banana was missing a rather large chunk and twenty grape hulls were hidden beneath the stove. Disinfecting mayhem commenced and the trap was laid.

After dinner, we left to print material for the upcoming week of classes. Thirty minutes later, we returned to our culprit stuck and miserable, caught trying to get the last grape hull.

I give full disclosure that at this point of detection, my husband was truly a man while I pranced around the hutong gagging, squawking and shuddering at the vile thing in our kitchen. Armed with a broom and a tennis shoe, Zach proceeded to kill the beast while I stood in the hall, took pictures and voiced the gross reality that rat brains could fly across our kitchen floor with each whack. I am the greatest support ever.

Our nemesis found his final resting place in a Cheerios box and outside in the trash can. With the carnage disposed and no lingering guts strewn about the floor, we stood in the hallway, shell shocked. It was the most disturbing experience. Eye to eye, my hand on his arm, with words of affirmation and love about to be said, a cockroach decided to fly down the hallway towards us. We flinched as the moment of sanity was dispelled and combat resumed. Zach ran down the hall, armed with the mighty tennis shoe and a ferocious battle cry. My husband is awesome.

The Return: Changes and Carnage

It was the stereotypical end of a sitcom show, boxes strewn about chaotically with lasting memories being made around them. Our last departure was a solitary effort, we left and everyone stayed. This time, many of our dearest friends are foraging new paths; one to Seattle, another to southwest Portland, former classmates to Southern California, a brother starting a new job in Nashville and the list continues. Rather big or small, it seemed we were surrounded by change. Though we said goodbye for another jaunt across the pond, we were not in change mode but, ironically, returning to the normal.

It was a whirlwind of a summer; a coast to coast escapade, starting with a seven day tour in the Caribbean to a layover in the mother state to tearful farewells after an impromptu morning breakfast in the greatest American airport, PDX. Our time stateside was fabulous and fattening. (Having wondered if American food really is that fattening, we can now say that yes, yes it is.)

Were we ready to return to the land of chopsticks, Chinglish, bizarre transportation, lukewarm water, non-fizzy Coke and sweltering temperatures? Yes, we were. For all the greatness of America, China is home for this season. Rejuvenated, renewed and reminded of the awesome community that surrounds us, we returned to the other side of the globe. 

It was a disaster. 

It seems mere days before our arrival, Zhanjiang was hit with another typhoon. Over the summer, I quit counting after the third typhoon warning for the area. On the drive from the airport, Zach and I kept a continuous commentary regarding downed trees and smashed buildings. Stepping onto campus, was another mess all together. Lights were smashed, palm fronds were everywhere except on the trees, and trees were stripped bare. A tree in front of our apartment (thankfully) fell the opposite direction of our building.

Aside from the typhoon carnage, we noticed that the view north from the main gate was a little more open. Upon closer inspection, an entire building was missing. Granted it was the spooky, haunted science building, but we did not realize how daunting of a building it was. From what we understand, it came down pre-typhoons. We really like the new look.

As for our apartment, it was beyond nasty. It took two days to remotely make it livable. We had expected bad; we had not expected horrible beyond comprehension. Mold abounded and a war on spiders and ants was declared. The grossest thing found--a jar that the contents were so moldy that we could only guess that it used to be oats. 

And our bed broke. 

But to date, all is clean, sparkly and not-as-infestested with spiders and our bed is being held up with crappy Chinese textbooks. All is well, though it is raining so hard now that I think another typhoon is at hand. 

Welcome Back Gift

Nothing says "welcome back" like a huge sack of Chinese noodles; at least ten pounds worth, compliments of one of our former students. Awesome.

The Book Thief

Often I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the basement steps with a snowman in your hands. --Max Vandenburg

Five hundred souls. I carried them in my fingers, like suitcases. Or I'd throw them over my shoulder. It was only the children I carried in my arms. --Narrator

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --Liesel