I just returned from dueling underground dance parties for middle aged Chinese people. I was led to this event by the school's cook who told me that she often goes to "underground dance parties." She did not mention that she only watches (never dances), but that I suppose is a minor detail. There were plenty of 50 year old ladies happy to dance with me, which was cute at first, but not so much by the end. Perhaps I will explain this phenomenon better.

In the 60's and 70's, Mao decided that China needed a huge underground city, so construction was obviously started. The whole Cultural Revolution thing derailed plans a bit, so they "city" was never finished into the metropolis it was to be. Now there are ramps and stairs leading down underground, where there are some cheap markets. The ramps are key, because they allow three wheeled bicycles down. The bicycles are key because the come equipped with speakers, a subwoofer, a car battery, an MP3 player and an old man. The old man, in this case two old men, setup their speakers, connect the car battery, and then begin the dueling dance party. Everyone starts dancing, and wahlah: a night to remember.

I recently visited Detroit. Okay, perhaps it was the Detroit of China, but upon arriving in Tianjin I promptly wrote that I did not like the city. Having decided to travel the past weekend, I chose Tianjin mostly (99 % mostly) because it was close and convenient. The lady on the bus I asked for a hotel recommendation, a native, asked me several times why I was visiting Tianjin. She wanted to know what there is to see, in case she had somehow missed it in 30 years there.

So prepared for failure, I immediately looked up the expatriate magazine for all the hip happenings. I found three choices: foreign student night at the Cozy Club, a dance club, and College Student Night at a coffee shop. I chose the coffee shop, and discovered that it was an English corner. This means that Chinese, with shockingly good English, materialize from the woodwork and then proceed to practice on you, the foreigner. This also means you are a prize possession, which I was lucky enough to use wisely.

By the end of the night, two cute twin sisters (okay, cousins) were more than delighted to take me around the city on Saturday and I was lucky enough to be invited to an American family's house for dinner and my favorite game in the world, Settlers of Catan. They say you know these sort of people (chrstns) by their love, and let me tell you, I was loved. By the end of Saturday, I was actually depressed to leave China's Motor City.

Sorry, once again, no pictures. Soon. I promise.

The Chinese don't walk. No, it is a truly a flow. They flow in and out of stores, across streets, and particularly down into subways. In fact, it is quite possible that the Chinese might collectively form a new type of matter, a gaseous liquid. For their shape changes, but yet so does their volume! Put 1000 people on a street, they spread out to cover it evenly. Put 1000 people in a subway car, they pack into it. It is a feat worthy of witnessing, but oddly at this point I am participant more than anything else.

Indeed I somehow now flow as well.

Orientation literatures states that once a person has emerged from culture shock, the shockee will not be able to recall what was once so extraordinarily irritating. I laughed at that--I knew going in that I was going to remember exactly what bothered me. I planned on it, and knew that I would never forget it. And yet I can't. Against all of my carefully laid plans I have forgotten, and instead really enjoy myself here.

Of course, it might just be that I have class 6 hours a week this month, too.

I have the power to Time Travel. Unfortunately, it's a balanced equation and only for about 14 hours per trip. Adding to the misfortune of my adventures, I also am required to sit on the inner row of up to three different time traveling airliners for up to 15 hours at a go. But I suppose that, combined with Time Travel Lag, is the price I must pay.

MB go home. Home was wonderful, even if they recommend staying in China as to avoid a second round of culture shock. I got to watch a lot of football, sleep on the couch with my grandpa, and eat an inordinate amount of sweets. I also got to spend some time with Alice, which was not only enjoyable, but productive. I was going to post incredible photos of exploits at home, including when I battled ninjas dispatched to bring me to the Northern Capital, but my internet is so sloooow that my e-mail even doesn't work. Sorry.

Return to China Culture Program (CCP) Shock Stages

1. First Day: Arrive at Beijing Teachers' College disoriented and admire my ridiculously nice room (it's a single.)
2. Second Day: Realize that my single room is a lot like a horrible cell and want to go home because, once again, I know nobody
3. Today: Stand by white board, meet friendly roommate. She takes me to see Bei Da and Qing Hua University, we go skating on a lake at Bei Da (accompanied by a crowd of adorable Middle Kingdom people), and then eat eat delicious Beijing Roast Duck for dinner with her boyfriend. Whom I would marry if it weren't that he's taken and a man (yes, he's that nice).

Final verdict on 4 days in China: spend more time standing by the white board.