Well, it's official: I did it. As of this morning at 1 PM I have a fancy certificate to tell the world that I Am A Teacher. Of course, for me the mental change happened awhile back (see blog entry from two weeks ago), but the world tends to need a piece of paper as proof-- and now I have it.
I leave Guadalajara tomorrow morning at 9 AM, for a long-weekend jaunt to Puerto Vallarta, on the coast, where I plan on a healthy dose of sun, sea, sand, and hopefully snorkeling. On Monday evening I will take a night bus to Guanajuato, a traditional central-Mexican town and UNESCO world heritage site. In Guanajuato and its neighbor, San Miguel Allende, I am excited to explore winding cobbled streets and experience semana santa (holy week) in a state famous for its beautiful Easter ceremonies.
I'll be back to the city for a day or so before my flight home April 7, but the truth is that my real time in Guadalajara is finished. The comforting routine of walking up Calle La Noche to catch the 629 bus is finished after tomorrow morning: no more barking dogs or old women sweeping dead leaves and fallen flowers off the street. No more ducking next door for a mollete (toasted bread with frijoles and cheese) or a Coke Zero during 11 am break. No more discovering new bars on Juarez or watching the old timers dance salsa in Expiatorio Explanada or explaining grammar points to 10 bored teenagers. Guadalajara has put its claws in me without my permission. I have to imagine I'll be back.
This city has given me so much, after all. After my trip this year I was hungry to make a start in a new place and experience the opposite of the nomadic existenced I lived in 2009. Guadalajara has given me a taste of this, enough to confirm the suspicions I harbored that I could easily fall in love with everyday routines thousands of miles from home. And as I've written here before, this city has made me a teacher. The woman who writes her name in neat letters on a white board and then launches into a spiel on the present unreal will always be a part of me, wherever I go.
It's given me something else as well. Just as quickly as I Became A Teacher, I suddenly find myself a functional trilingual. Not that my Spanish is perfect, or even close to complete in any way, shape, or form. I still can't speak well in the past tense; I still only understand between 65 and 90% of what is said to me. But for the past 10 years of my life I have been someone who speaks two languages, and this week I found myself ably ordering tickets, discussing world events with my host family, and chatting with strangers a bus stops. I can't pretend to be bilingual anymore. The shift to thinking of myself as trilingual means foward growth and change, something not always easy to come by when you're an unemployed 20-something. And I have Guadalajara to thank.
Showing posts with label routines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label routines. Show all posts
Friday, March 26, 2010
Monday, April 9, 2007
A Day in the Life
The past several entries have been devoted to my (considerable) adventures in Xishuangbanna but I've now been back in Kunming for about a week and a half and am settled in nicely to a modest homestay about 3 minutes' walk from campus. Very convenient. I thought I would talk a little bit more about my day to day life here instead of the Extraordinary Adventures (although I have my share of adventures just here.)
I'm living with a little old lady (well, she's actually not really old, only 59, but she very much exudes an aura of little-old-ladyness) and her 24 year old daughter in a little apartment with a nice park in the middle of the complex. The daughter, whose name is Su, recently graduated from the University where I take classes and is looking without success for a job. That's a fairly common issue among educated young people here.
I wake up every morning at 7 AM to get to class by 8. There isn't really a sink in the bathroom (which has, glory be, a Western toilet) so I brush my teeth in the sink overlooking the little park. I get dressed and my Ayi (that's the word for "Auntie") insists on making me breakfast. On the first day she made me rice noodles, but although I was polite about it I think she could tell I wasn't a big fan. Since then she's made me oatmeal and, on alternating days, this odd bread stuff and cakes stuffed with red bean paste. I like the paste, but the bread is laced through with this weird fuzzy brown stuff that tastes terrible. I tend to spread lots of honey on it and then eat lots of oatmeal. Lately she's also made me these strange gnocci-type dumplings stuffed with coarsed brown sugar and soaked in something sweet, with what she says are flowers floating around. Every day is a culinary adventure in that house, and I've (of course) never eaten so much homemade Chinese food. They've finally come out and admitted that they're trying to make me as many different foods as possible so that I get to experience all China has to offer. We also eat a lot of homemade fried rice, which is delicious. On the first night, they teased me because I hold my chopsticks wrong, but I've been getting better.
My relationship with my Ayi is very cute. She always has a smile on her face when she sees me (I wonder if I amuse her somehow) and we've gotten a nice little routine down. When I come out of my room (which is modest but comfortable with a biggish bed, a desk, and a closet) in the morning she says "So you got up?" to which of course I say yes. Then she asks me how I slept and what time I got home last night-- when I want to go out with my friends at night to do fun things or homework at a cafe, I take the keys with me because Ayi goes to sleep before 10 and Su, although part of the family really, has her own apartment in the building next to ours. During breakfast I usually (for lack of better topics) ask Ayi what she's doing today-- she's retired and so usually the answer is "not much." She cleans the house, watches TV (Su and Ayi LOVE to watch TV, especially this one American Idol type show where Westerners sing Chinese songs), goes to the vegetable market next door to buy produce, and has lately been travelling to the other side of Kunming to help her younger sister move. When I'm full she'll tell me to eat more until I have assured her that I'm really done, and then she'll usually tell me that I should be wearing more clothes because it's cold out (regardless of the fact that usually it's 65 degrees outside. Actually, the past several days it's been pretty cold and rainy, but that's beside the point.)
I walk to morning classes through our apartment complex, passing people doing morning exercises outside and sometimes an en masse English class (Teacher: "Repeat after me: do you have any cigarettes?" What sounds like 80 People: "Du yu have an-ee cig-rets.") I come back and have lunch with Ayi and Su, which is always homecooked and a great majority of the time is delicious. I've been lucky, because other people's host families have made them very spicy food (it's the local palate here) but they've been very understanding and only chided me gently when I say something is too spicy-- most of the time it's delicious. With every new food they ask me "Can you eat this?" and I finally figured out that that really means "Do you like this?" but that it's not polite to say you don't like something someone else has made for you. Mostly I've been able to remain flexible. They haven't cooked me cow stomach or whole frogs like Tania's family has.
I've been really interested in the cultural differences and similarities I've found while living in my homestay. Some things are very much the same-- Ayi says "Su! Dinner!" and Su responds "Coming!"... only to be repeated thirty seconds later. And Ayi follows me around turning off the lights I forget and leave on, just as my mother does at home. I've explained that it's a bad habit and that I'm not forgetting on purpose, but I still feel bad about it. And then again, the differences are also pretty very significant. For one thing, there's the issue of slippers. One doesn't wear shoes in the house, something I knew before I came. However, one also doesn't wear slippers in one's room but leaves them outside the door. So I've gotten very good at taking my shoes on and off quickly. I've also gotten really good at stairs-- we live on the third floor and that's actually pretty easy in comparison to John's enormous 4-floors and Tania's 5-floors. Glutes get quite a workout here. When I come home at night all the lights are sound and motion sensitive so I have to clap my way up the stairs.
Dinners are interesting in my homestay, too, because we often get into cultural exchange discussions. One night I ended up explaining the racial relations situation (in simple terms, of course, my Chinese isn't that great) in the US. Another night I spent the meal assuring Su and Ayi that Americans don't eat chicken feet, pig ears, tails, or stomachs. "But that's the best part! What a waste!" they kept saying. Su speaks some English, which I thought was going to be a problem because I want to practice my Chinese as much as possible but as it turns out it's just been a boon because she can translate when I don't understand something. I teach her new vocabulary, too, as our conversation transitions from English to Chinese and back, and Ayi often repeats the words too. Her accent, as condescending as it is to say, is adorable. Having the first thing I say when I get up in the morning be Chinese has been an interesting experience, and I've started dreaming in Chinese sometimes, which feels pretty cool.
I've had some adventures in Kunming without the aid of exciting travel. One weekend Tania's host family drove us to a hot springs in the countryside of Kunming, a beautiful and relaxing getaway. Another day they took us to the bird and flower market which actually is mostly animals and plants. That was kind of depressing because they had so many really beautiful dogs that we were not allowed to cuddle. John's family, however, has obtained an adorable seeing eye puppy, so we met our animal cuddling needs there. John's family also has an automated majiang table, and one night his mom schooled us in the art of majiang (I needed a refresher.) I think I can actually play, although I'm fuzzy on a few of the rules.
Last weekend I also had adventures-- on Sunday morning I did aerobics/dance with my two Chinese teachers who are 27 and 28 respectively but with whom I've made friends. I thought it was going to be terrible and conspicuous but it was actually a lot of fun and the gym was way nicer than the one I use at home. It had a juice bar and internet cafe inside! Later that day John, Kailey, and I went and taught English for two hours to 12-15 year olds. We taught them simple games like Telephone and Simon Says and got paid Y150 for it. Great fun.
We're leaving tomorrow for a huge adventure around the province. I feel sad (I'm leaving my teachers and Diana behind) and anxious and excited. The next time I write will be from the road.
I'm living with a little old lady (well, she's actually not really old, only 59, but she very much exudes an aura of little-old-ladyness) and her 24 year old daughter in a little apartment with a nice park in the middle of the complex. The daughter, whose name is Su, recently graduated from the University where I take classes and is looking without success for a job. That's a fairly common issue among educated young people here.
I wake up every morning at 7 AM to get to class by 8. There isn't really a sink in the bathroom (which has, glory be, a Western toilet) so I brush my teeth in the sink overlooking the little park. I get dressed and my Ayi (that's the word for "Auntie") insists on making me breakfast. On the first day she made me rice noodles, but although I was polite about it I think she could tell I wasn't a big fan. Since then she's made me oatmeal and, on alternating days, this odd bread stuff and cakes stuffed with red bean paste. I like the paste, but the bread is laced through with this weird fuzzy brown stuff that tastes terrible. I tend to spread lots of honey on it and then eat lots of oatmeal. Lately she's also made me these strange gnocci-type dumplings stuffed with coarsed brown sugar and soaked in something sweet, with what she says are flowers floating around. Every day is a culinary adventure in that house, and I've (of course) never eaten so much homemade Chinese food. They've finally come out and admitted that they're trying to make me as many different foods as possible so that I get to experience all China has to offer. We also eat a lot of homemade fried rice, which is delicious. On the first night, they teased me because I hold my chopsticks wrong, but I've been getting better.
My relationship with my Ayi is very cute. She always has a smile on her face when she sees me (I wonder if I amuse her somehow) and we've gotten a nice little routine down. When I come out of my room (which is modest but comfortable with a biggish bed, a desk, and a closet) in the morning she says "So you got up?" to which of course I say yes. Then she asks me how I slept and what time I got home last night-- when I want to go out with my friends at night to do fun things or homework at a cafe, I take the keys with me because Ayi goes to sleep before 10 and Su, although part of the family really, has her own apartment in the building next to ours. During breakfast I usually (for lack of better topics) ask Ayi what she's doing today-- she's retired and so usually the answer is "not much." She cleans the house, watches TV (Su and Ayi LOVE to watch TV, especially this one American Idol type show where Westerners sing Chinese songs), goes to the vegetable market next door to buy produce, and has lately been travelling to the other side of Kunming to help her younger sister move. When I'm full she'll tell me to eat more until I have assured her that I'm really done, and then she'll usually tell me that I should be wearing more clothes because it's cold out (regardless of the fact that usually it's 65 degrees outside. Actually, the past several days it's been pretty cold and rainy, but that's beside the point.)
I walk to morning classes through our apartment complex, passing people doing morning exercises outside and sometimes an en masse English class (Teacher: "Repeat after me: do you have any cigarettes?" What sounds like 80 People: "Du yu have an-ee cig-rets.") I come back and have lunch with Ayi and Su, which is always homecooked and a great majority of the time is delicious. I've been lucky, because other people's host families have made them very spicy food (it's the local palate here) but they've been very understanding and only chided me gently when I say something is too spicy-- most of the time it's delicious. With every new food they ask me "Can you eat this?" and I finally figured out that that really means "Do you like this?" but that it's not polite to say you don't like something someone else has made for you. Mostly I've been able to remain flexible. They haven't cooked me cow stomach or whole frogs like Tania's family has.
I've been really interested in the cultural differences and similarities I've found while living in my homestay. Some things are very much the same-- Ayi says "Su! Dinner!" and Su responds "Coming!"... only to be repeated thirty seconds later. And Ayi follows me around turning off the lights I forget and leave on, just as my mother does at home. I've explained that it's a bad habit and that I'm not forgetting on purpose, but I still feel bad about it. And then again, the differences are also pretty very significant. For one thing, there's the issue of slippers. One doesn't wear shoes in the house, something I knew before I came. However, one also doesn't wear slippers in one's room but leaves them outside the door. So I've gotten very good at taking my shoes on and off quickly. I've also gotten really good at stairs-- we live on the third floor and that's actually pretty easy in comparison to John's enormous 4-floors and Tania's 5-floors. Glutes get quite a workout here. When I come home at night all the lights are sound and motion sensitive so I have to clap my way up the stairs.
Dinners are interesting in my homestay, too, because we often get into cultural exchange discussions. One night I ended up explaining the racial relations situation (in simple terms, of course, my Chinese isn't that great) in the US. Another night I spent the meal assuring Su and Ayi that Americans don't eat chicken feet, pig ears, tails, or stomachs. "But that's the best part! What a waste!" they kept saying. Su speaks some English, which I thought was going to be a problem because I want to practice my Chinese as much as possible but as it turns out it's just been a boon because she can translate when I don't understand something. I teach her new vocabulary, too, as our conversation transitions from English to Chinese and back, and Ayi often repeats the words too. Her accent, as condescending as it is to say, is adorable. Having the first thing I say when I get up in the morning be Chinese has been an interesting experience, and I've started dreaming in Chinese sometimes, which feels pretty cool.
I've had some adventures in Kunming without the aid of exciting travel. One weekend Tania's host family drove us to a hot springs in the countryside of Kunming, a beautiful and relaxing getaway. Another day they took us to the bird and flower market which actually is mostly animals and plants. That was kind of depressing because they had so many really beautiful dogs that we were not allowed to cuddle. John's family, however, has obtained an adorable seeing eye puppy, so we met our animal cuddling needs there. John's family also has an automated majiang table, and one night his mom schooled us in the art of majiang (I needed a refresher.) I think I can actually play, although I'm fuzzy on a few of the rules.
Last weekend I also had adventures-- on Sunday morning I did aerobics/dance with my two Chinese teachers who are 27 and 28 respectively but with whom I've made friends. I thought it was going to be terrible and conspicuous but it was actually a lot of fun and the gym was way nicer than the one I use at home. It had a juice bar and internet cafe inside! Later that day John, Kailey, and I went and taught English for two hours to 12-15 year olds. We taught them simple games like Telephone and Simon Says and got paid Y150 for it. Great fun.
We're leaving tomorrow for a huge adventure around the province. I feel sad (I'm leaving my teachers and Diana behind) and anxious and excited. The next time I write will be from the road.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
I Changed My Mind
I've decided that if I leave this internet cafe not having completed either of my objectives (write in my blog, download Skype) but having been online for a signficant amount of time, that just won't do. So I'm going to write at least part of the entry the internet just sucked into oblivion and I'll write the rest in the next couple days.
So. This week hasn't been that interesting, but it has been very busy, which is my excuse for not updating my blog in so long. Also, one of the internet cafes I go to regularly refuses to load blogger, which makes writing difficult. Anyway, there is a definite routine in the pipeline. Lots of work, lectures, occasional hanging out. I spend most of my time with Tania, John, and Diana (it's so wonderful to have her living down the hall from me.) This week we had our first test, on religion and history, but it was take home and our collaboration was expected, so it was nothing too strenuous. My Chinese class went from being just me to having 3 people in it, but I'm not complaining. I'm learning lots and my teachers are adorable and very sweet. This next week is only a part-week because on Wednesday we set off on our 5-day "Yunnan Exploration Projects." I'm going to Xishuangbanna, a subtropical area at the very southern tip of Yunnan, bordering on Myanmar. I'm pretty nervous, as I'm travelling alone, but it will be good practice for May when I'm alone all the time. And I'm getting excited planning the trip-- if it works out, it should include a bike ride along the Mekong River through minority villages and a stay in a treetop hostel above wild elephants (This last part will set me back some moneywise, but I'm willing to sacrifice for wild elephants.)
For our Day Out (we have one every week) we went to a Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) hospital. We saw doctors performing acupuncture, cupping (more on that in a minute), and massage, and got to see the enormous herb vault where they make up prescriptions (they use cicada shells! And ground up lizard skin!) I thought the most interesting part was the complete lack of privacy in the hospital-- it seemed to be the norm. There were lots of patients being treated in one room and no one batted an eye when 17 foreigners trooped in to watch them being worked on.
John, Diana, and I came back to the hospital the next day because John has a bad back and he wanted to try out acupuncture. It wasn't the best way to spend a Friday afternoon, but it was an interesting cultural experience. John had to jump through a bunch of hoops, going from floor to floor to different offices, before he could get treated. The doctor then interviewed him for awhile and determined which part of his qi (body energy balance) was out of whack. He then applied about 7 or 8 tiny acupuncture needles to John's lower back and the back of his knee, attached some herbs to the needles and lit them on fire (a la incense), and left him there for awhile. Diana and I entertained him with funny stories. After awhile, they took the needles out and did some cupping-- a practice wherein the doctor lights the air inside some glass cups on fire, sucking out all the oxygen, and then applies the cups to the skin, creating a vacuum seal. This part was very entertaining, because whenever Diana or I said something funny, John would laugh, his back would jiggle up and down, and the cups would clink together, making us all laugh more.
After the hospital trip, Tania and I wandered around Old Kunming, an area that has escaped the rapid modernization of most of the city and looks very traditional. We made friends with an artisan while he made Tania a homemade seal for her boyfriend's birthday present, looked at lots of stalls and a street market. At one point we stumbled on a street full of people selling tiny kittens and puppies in cages. In a way it was very depressing, but personally when I'm faced with a cardboard box full of 7 squirming, cuddly, mewling puppies small enough to hold with one hand I can only think about the enormous amount of cute.
The other exciting thing about this week was our trip to the Stone Forest and our previous trip to the Saturday market in Lunan. That will have to wait until next entry, but stay tuned for stories of beautiful minority costumes, the colorful chaos of market day, the rickety-est pedicab ever, new Thai friends, anoxia (altitude sickness), and incredible geological phenomena.
So. This week hasn't been that interesting, but it has been very busy, which is my excuse for not updating my blog in so long. Also, one of the internet cafes I go to regularly refuses to load blogger, which makes writing difficult. Anyway, there is a definite routine in the pipeline. Lots of work, lectures, occasional hanging out. I spend most of my time with Tania, John, and Diana (it's so wonderful to have her living down the hall from me.) This week we had our first test, on religion and history, but it was take home and our collaboration was expected, so it was nothing too strenuous. My Chinese class went from being just me to having 3 people in it, but I'm not complaining. I'm learning lots and my teachers are adorable and very sweet. This next week is only a part-week because on Wednesday we set off on our 5-day "Yunnan Exploration Projects." I'm going to Xishuangbanna, a subtropical area at the very southern tip of Yunnan, bordering on Myanmar. I'm pretty nervous, as I'm travelling alone, but it will be good practice for May when I'm alone all the time. And I'm getting excited planning the trip-- if it works out, it should include a bike ride along the Mekong River through minority villages and a stay in a treetop hostel above wild elephants (This last part will set me back some moneywise, but I'm willing to sacrifice for wild elephants.)
For our Day Out (we have one every week) we went to a Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) hospital. We saw doctors performing acupuncture, cupping (more on that in a minute), and massage, and got to see the enormous herb vault where they make up prescriptions (they use cicada shells! And ground up lizard skin!) I thought the most interesting part was the complete lack of privacy in the hospital-- it seemed to be the norm. There were lots of patients being treated in one room and no one batted an eye when 17 foreigners trooped in to watch them being worked on.
John, Diana, and I came back to the hospital the next day because John has a bad back and he wanted to try out acupuncture. It wasn't the best way to spend a Friday afternoon, but it was an interesting cultural experience. John had to jump through a bunch of hoops, going from floor to floor to different offices, before he could get treated. The doctor then interviewed him for awhile and determined which part of his qi (body energy balance) was out of whack. He then applied about 7 or 8 tiny acupuncture needles to John's lower back and the back of his knee, attached some herbs to the needles and lit them on fire (a la incense), and left him there for awhile. Diana and I entertained him with funny stories. After awhile, they took the needles out and did some cupping-- a practice wherein the doctor lights the air inside some glass cups on fire, sucking out all the oxygen, and then applies the cups to the skin, creating a vacuum seal. This part was very entertaining, because whenever Diana or I said something funny, John would laugh, his back would jiggle up and down, and the cups would clink together, making us all laugh more.
After the hospital trip, Tania and I wandered around Old Kunming, an area that has escaped the rapid modernization of most of the city and looks very traditional. We made friends with an artisan while he made Tania a homemade seal for her boyfriend's birthday present, looked at lots of stalls and a street market. At one point we stumbled on a street full of people selling tiny kittens and puppies in cages. In a way it was very depressing, but personally when I'm faced with a cardboard box full of 7 squirming, cuddly, mewling puppies small enough to hold with one hand I can only think about the enormous amount of cute.
The other exciting thing about this week was our trip to the Stone Forest and our previous trip to the Saturday market in Lunan. That will have to wait until next entry, but stay tuned for stories of beautiful minority costumes, the colorful chaos of market day, the rickety-est pedicab ever, new Thai friends, anoxia (altitude sickness), and incredible geological phenomena.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Settling in (for now)
Classes have begun, affording to us at least a shadow of a routine. We study Chinese for 3.5 hours every morning-- from 8-12, with a half hour break at 10. During the first period we focus on Yufa (grammar structures) and shengci (vocabulary.) During the second period we focus on kouyu (spoken Chinese.) Lisa was in my class for the first day, but she was in Beijing last semester studying and found the subject matter too easy. Today, Sophie moved up from the level below me to try out something harder, but was struggling a bit. I could very well end up with my own class, which would be intense. I was placed in level D, out of A-F, which was a nice ego boost given how many of the people above me have lived in China for some amount of time-- actually, now that I think about it, it's all of them. I've been enjoying kouyu the most, because we have to speak for five minutes every day in front of the class about something, and I've discovered that I can discuss more sophisticated topics and ideas than I thought. Yesterday I was able to explain the smoggy mountain concept from my Argus article. Today I talked about approaching Chinese strangers at Salvadore's last night (I had to ask Chinese people about their opinions on something for homework, they were actually quite nice about it and we ended up exchanging phone numbers.)
During the break between classes, the program has found a Taiji master to teach us, and we go out and make fools of ourselves in the bright blue morning. We learn the slow,fluid movements as well as some more martial-arts flavored routines on a plaza in the middle of campus where University students are free to come gawk and laugh (and they do.) It's only been a few days, but we're already getting better, and the Taiji is a great way to relax between classes. Makes my knees hurt a little, although that could also be the walking up 6 flights of stairs 3 times a day (elevators are a rarity here.)
In the afternoons we do something cultural or education-related. Yesterday we walked to the Minority People's University and met English major students there. One of them is from a village near Xishuangbanna where three different minorities live--I can't help but think how interesting it might be to study how they interact and live together. Today we watched a fairly interminable movie all about modern Chinese history, called "The Mao Years." It was fairly interesting, I learned a lot about the Cultural Revolution and Great Leap Forward that I didn't know before, but the movie was so long and I've been getting little sleep, and I ended up napping against my will.
Tomorrow we get a reprieve from classes-- we will visit the Western Hills of Kunming (a place I have actually already been) and hear a lecture about Buddhism, then get to explore the Daoist temples hewn into the rock. We won't get a reprieve like this every week, though: this newly established routine will last for another three weeks before our five-day "Yunnan Exploration Project" (where we choose a place to go in a small group and are responsible for getting there, finding places to stay, eating, and then writing a paper about it. We can go wherever we want and the program will pay for everything except airfare. How psyched am I???) After the project, we will continue with classes during a two-week homestay. The routine seems like it might get a little suffocating, but it's only 5 weeks, and nothing, at least in my experience, can stay boring in China.
During the break between classes, the program has found a Taiji master to teach us, and we go out and make fools of ourselves in the bright blue morning. We learn the slow,fluid movements as well as some more martial-arts flavored routines on a plaza in the middle of campus where University students are free to come gawk and laugh (and they do.) It's only been a few days, but we're already getting better, and the Taiji is a great way to relax between classes. Makes my knees hurt a little, although that could also be the walking up 6 flights of stairs 3 times a day (elevators are a rarity here.)
In the afternoons we do something cultural or education-related. Yesterday we walked to the Minority People's University and met English major students there. One of them is from a village near Xishuangbanna where three different minorities live--I can't help but think how interesting it might be to study how they interact and live together. Today we watched a fairly interminable movie all about modern Chinese history, called "The Mao Years." It was fairly interesting, I learned a lot about the Cultural Revolution and Great Leap Forward that I didn't know before, but the movie was so long and I've been getting little sleep, and I ended up napping against my will.
Tomorrow we get a reprieve from classes-- we will visit the Western Hills of Kunming (a place I have actually already been) and hear a lecture about Buddhism, then get to explore the Daoist temples hewn into the rock. We won't get a reprieve like this every week, though: this newly established routine will last for another three weeks before our five-day "Yunnan Exploration Project" (where we choose a place to go in a small group and are responsible for getting there, finding places to stay, eating, and then writing a paper about it. We can go wherever we want and the program will pay for everything except airfare. How psyched am I???) After the project, we will continue with classes during a two-week homestay. The routine seems like it might get a little suffocating, but it's only 5 weeks, and nothing, at least in my experience, can stay boring in China.
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