Double Killing. Think I am in trouble? Think again, because now all that means is a double play. Yes, it is true, I have found baseball in China and it is better than the Field of Dreams. After searching for 8 months, literally, baseball came and found me at my job. And now ever Friday, Saturday and Sunday I am fabulously occupied with the ZheJiang University Baseball Team.

We are bad. My first time over I was selected to pitch because the team only has 3 pitchers. Two were gone on break and the other had thrown the entire previous day. And working from my constantly morphing delivery, I baffled batting practice with 50 mph fastballs located in the general vicinity of the plate. But hey, only nailing one guy isn't so bad is it? And I did bring the heat to actually break the catchers' mitt. Even Johan Santana doesn't actually break gloves. The mitt might have been from 1869, but I don't think that matters.

Watching the Chinese players arrive was my own personal Sandlot. There's fat ones and tall ones, a couple girls, and one that can't throw the ball in the air. Worm burners, every time. But when Worm Burner isn't working his outfield magic, he's an oncology major, so he should be all right.

In other news, the Chinese and Korean women's soccer national teams are playing in Hangzhou this weekend. And the Chinese team is visiting our university on Sunday, so I might have to go over and see that. But I hope for the Chinese women's team sake, they do not win in a dramatic shootout, which will require the last women to rip her shirt off in excitement. Instead of popularizing the sport like in America, the whole team would probably be banished.

Let's examine this method of celebration--does it make any sense? I have never seen any other women rip her shirt off in excitement, though perhaps this is for the best. "283 pounds? I met this week's weight loss goal, Yes!" Everyone would need therapy after that. But lets constrict the field to athletic celebrations, though weight loss perhaps might bizarrely qualify anyway.

Do baseball players rip off their shirts? "No don't celebrate yet! I still have some more buttons to go..." Or how about football players--nope, they're not allowed to take off their helmets. Perhaps that is why football executes so many jiggle-based celebrations. Basketball? They'd rather celebrate by whomping a fan or two. Ice hockey, I'm going to just say no. So why do soccer players?

Perhaps the first shirt ripping celebration was practiced by the Dutch, where as we all know, anything is legal. Then in an effort to not be out done, Germans had to go ripping too, prompting the entire French squad to develop the "Synchronized Shirt Strip" which is performed while speaking the most beautiful language on earth. I don't know.

Perhaps it is just best to hope for a 0-0 tie, preventing the need for any celebration whatsoever. Might be a relief to everyone, anyway.

For your viewing pleasure, I present some pictures from my China-crossing trip. Alas they are not in order, but I shall provide witty captions.

High school seniors in Hong Kong. They interviewed my in startlingly good English about Hong Kong's air pollution, to which I generally replied, "uhhh."

Sunset in Gui Lin, you can see a glimpse of the odd hills. They're everywhere, and really are beautiful, but I have no idea how they happened. As with most things, probably "carved by tiny glaciers millions of years ago."

Modern Junk. Ok, the ship is a Junk (pronounced yoonk) against the background of a modern Hong Kong. The city is truly remarkable, absolutely squeezed into the foot of a mountain. It appears to be one huge interconnected shopping mall in some ways, with signs warning everywhere, "smoke and be fined 5000 HK Dollars." No wonder it's clean.

You want Hong Kong's antidote? I present The First Normal School, the stomping grounds of Mao Ze Deng. Many Chinese landmarks are rebuilt (having either fallen down or been burned down by zealous Red Guards). Amazingly, this rebuilt school operates normally today, which would explain the eruption when I almost wondered into the female students' dormitory. Mao would not approve.

Last (actually my first destination) is Lu Shan, site of the Lu Shan conference. Now site of the worst place I have ever visited in China. I did escape with one nice picture, I suppose.

Si Chuan food is famous for being spicy. Unfortunately the little known truth is that Hunanese food could make an seasoned sichuanese veteran cry. I recently learned this truth.

Hunanese food is prepared in different ways, depending on the quality of the restaurant. If it is your standard family joint, before serving each dish is sniffed by the house grandma. If at least one of her nose hairs is singed, the dish is declared fit. However at the five star restaurants, a much more advanced method is used. Imported chefs from Mexico and France are both feed two mouthfuls. If either the Mexican blinks or the Frenchmen cries, the dish is a success. Bonus points if the Frenchmen attempts to surrender.

The food having driven me out of Hunan, I arrived in Gui Lin last night. This morning I went in search of a bike to rent. Fortunately I ran into a friendly local that lead me to a push cart stand with a sign, "We Rent The Bike." Delighted to have rented the only bike in all of Gui Lin, I headed off to see some mind warping scenery. Gui Lin is famous for these odd hills that seem to be blasted up out of the ground.

In route I managed to use the only bike in Gui Lin to run over probably the only thumbtack in Gui Lin. Being a genius, I looked at the silvery thing in my tire and promptly pulled it out. Poof--no air! I then got to walk to the only bike shop in about 5 miles, but all in all it was still a good day. I find that traveling with myself is like buying a bond. You know that nothing is going to go wrong, but probably not the return of traveling with friends either.

Returning to my regularly scheduled, highly polished broadcasts, I am on vacation. Which means I have infinitely more potential to land in ridiculous situations than usual. So far I have visited Lu Shan, the site where Mao strung Peng De Huai out to dry.

While Lu Shan is no longer a communist party hot spot, it can claim two superlatives: world's biggest tourist trap and world's most advanced cross walk signs. The tourist trap is run by the entire city and is specifically designed to skewer everyone. Are you an elderly Chinese and a big Mao fan? Take pictures of yourself sitting in the director's chair. Do you like picturesque landscapes? Buy the obscenely expensive 180 kuai entrance ticket (wait, everyone does that), hike down a mountain and then be forced to take a cable car up or die. Are you an ignorant foreigner? Have your two locals give you "the Tour" and have them lock your stuff in the trunk of their car. Then argue about the ever increasing price and have them ask, "where is your stuff again?"

The cross signs, though, are exciting. Oh yes, the little green man actually walks. And then walks faster, breaks stride, and finally becomes a little green blur. The light then turns red, implying imminent death (probable) if you weren't smart enough to follow the man's example.

On to Gui Lin tomorrow!

I am going to do something drastic, bordering on dumb. I am going

to tell the truth.

When I got to this country 227 days ago, I hated everything about this country and my life. My Chinese level needed a finely tuned scientific instrument to measure. All of my friends were in Chicago and I came alone. The school in Hangzhou that I attend is run by Middlebury and each semester they transport a clique of students to China and back. The language pledge prevented me from really communicating with anyone.

In addition to my massive dysfunction, I was cursed with a scholarship that stipulates a full year abroad. So while all the other Americans counted down the weeks until they got out of China on one hand, I counted the months on two. I visited the office in tears more than once, thinking of any scheme to get me out.

But China slowly broke me, or perhaps I learned to bend China back. My Chinese took a flying leap, and as I leaped my friends began to shift too. Very slowly at first. I made friends with some girls that work at a tea shop. I started to spend sometime with the guys in the dorm. After my roommate's girlfriend moved to Shanghai (to his hysterics), we became friends and I met people at some school events, dances and performances.

Then all of the Americans, including myself, went home. And I'll never see them again, but I was back in China a few weeks later. I continued to learn to make friends in Beijing and then came to Hangzhou armed with two weapons: an internship and old friends. Throw in acceptable Chinese for good measure. At the same time, my contact with my American friends grew less and less. Not because they're not good friends, but simply the distance. Too hard to cross.

China recently dealt me the blow that I feared the most: it cost me my relationship with Alice. I had feared this for so long. Speaking honestly, after I got passed the culture shock the reason that I fought against China so much is that I saw it taking it from me. And while it certainly has hurt, I have also found that I don't have to fight this country anymore.

China has taken everything except my family from me (which it won't ever), but I don't even mind any more.

It's ok.

The resident director here told me that students generally don't make many real Chinese friends. And they don't--they eat together, study together and go out together. And while they are "living in China" what they're doing is skimming over the top, getting the cream off the milk.

Well I say the hell with that. China started as the most bitter pill I have ever swallowed. But the medicine works. I am more patient than I've ever been, more relaxed than I knew I could be. Life moves much more slowly here. And by far the best part for me is that I have entered into it. My friends are Chinese. The activities I participate in are Chinese. I am going to my friend's birthday party week after next. I'm going camping with my co-workers.

In short, I've made my nitch, and while my nitch absolutely involves listening to Twins games broadcast from around the world, most of my nitch is Chinese. And that is

Amazing.

I have an inordinate amount of peasant worker friends, most of them from HeNan. This perhaps requires an explanation. You probably know that Americans say, "it's not what you know, it's who." Well in China that is true, but could be amended to, "who you know you will know more and more of until you are squished under a pile of Chinese people." Perhaps I have taken liberty with the translation, but you're just going to have to trust me. After all, who's been in China way too long for their own good--you, or me?

This is brought on by my recent weekend. I had made plans to eat the elusive Green Tea Ice Cream with my friend from teashop. Well, I should have known better, but she of course invited her friend 2 who took us to her little sister's shop. Friend 2 also invited friend 3 and friend 3 invited her guy friends to come. And also brought her older sister, who is actually her brother's girlfriend. Clear so far? So by the end of the night, a cone of ice cream had turned into about 5 more friends, all from HeNan. And the world spins on.

In other news, this blog has had almost 1000 unique visits. Exciting! Nobody has mailed me New York style cheesecake yet, but I am still hoping.

It has recently come to my attention that my best friend from Beijing, Gao Rui Xia (高瑞霞), has not appeared on my blog. Never one to ignore my heinous errors, here in all the grandeur of Beijing University is the two of us. On skates, no less. She and her boyfriend treated me to my first taste of Beijing Roast Duck (which is just as delicious as advertised) and we have even been known to climb The Great Wall of China together. This summer she has agreed to help give my family a tour of Beijing (surprise, family members!). So no more heinous errors for me!

In other news, I have been assiduously planning my spring break trip: go South. So while I do not know exactly where I am going, I am sure it will be more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Especially considering monkeys make a big mess.

I don't need to go to China to learn about myself. I can just take the flipping Briggs-Myers personality test and have myself described perfectly:

does not like being alone, thinks life has purpose/meaning, organized, values organized religion, outgoing, social, does not like strange people/things - likely intolerant of differences, open, easy to read, dislikes science fiction, values relationships and families over intellectual pursuits, group oriented, follows the rules, affectionate, planner, regular, orderly, clean, finisher, religious, consults others before acting, content, positive, loves getting massages, complimentary, dutiful, loving, considerate, altruistic

Well it did make one mistake: I like Star Wars. Above is a panda trashcan.

I promised big news. Well it's not just big. It's provincial sized! Multi-provincial sized! If you haven't guessed it yet, I would say that it's pretty obvious that I am starring on a Dating Game Show on Zhejiang Province TV. You can see me with my successful partner above. Her names is Good Good (no, not kidding) and I am sure we're destined for a long and fruitful relationship. Especially considering after the show she told me that, "Glad it's just a game, huh? I'm really busy right now, but maybe I'll see you later." Oh well, it's the hotness that counts, right? For all my Western viewers, I know what you're thinking--not hot. But in China, this girl is pretty much Angelina Jolie. I have more thoughts on this experience, but they perhaps require polishing. May I note that the one sketchy part of this show was performed with a seaweed barrier!

A lot has been happening. So many things I ought to tell you! From two trips to Nanjing to my amazing skills at my job to my bicycle's special trick. So might as well start! Above is my first trip to Nanjing on independent travel weekend. Last quarter I met peasants in a village, this one I decided to "casually climb" a mountain in Nanjing. Well I almost died about 2/3 of the way up, but I was able to pull myself together and look smooth for this picture. My mood was not helped by the numerous old grandpas running up and down the mountain yelling, "This isn't steep! This isn't tall!" Crazy communists! Nanjing is in the background.

The next week was group travel weekend. But instead of heading for the mountains of some remote oppressed minority, we went back to Nanjing. Don't get me wrong, our Director wanted to go the poor oppressed minority, but three days of rain thwarted him. I am not sure what my roommate is doing, but it's pretty much his standard thing. Sai Xi is a good man. This time we visited Sun Yat-Sen's mausoleum, which I found scintillating, as I pounded out 26 pages on him last spring.

Who is that man? Only by far the handsomest employee at Wind and Snow Outdoor Store. Oh yes, I, for four hours a day four days a week, peddle the likes of North Face, Mountain Hardwear, and more to rich Chinese people. The real mystery to me is why the don't just by the fake one that looks the same, but I haven't brought that up yet. So far my proudest moment is selling a polar fleece jacket to a man and his wife. Big deal you say? I say you say "light but warm, quick drying nicely fitting guaranteed quality and 25% off polar fleece jacket." Yeah, that's what I thought.Seeing as I have no picture of my devious bicycle, I have chosen this unflattering one of my co-workers. My bicycle has a special trick: when you ride fast, the chain falls off. Perhaps this doesn't sound so bad, but it is less than ideal. As in look here is a huge thunderstorm coming--ride fast! Or, that crazy electric bike rider might squish me--ride fast! Seeing as I commute half an hour to work each way on my bike every day, my hands were getting a little black from chain grease. I recently took it to a local guy with a wrench, and whatever he did seems to have solved it. But I am waiting until I really need to GO FAST! I assume then it will fall off.

I have some more really Big NEWS... but you'll just have to wait until Monday or so for that. Can't blow it all in one day.

I have become the stuff of Legend. At least, somehow, here in Hangzhou where faulty stories transferred by thousands of miles of wire become even more faulty. The newly arrived students were convinced that upon my arrival in China 6 months ago, I did not speak a word of Chinese. But somehow through superhuman acts of improvement, I have arrived at my current state. Which, as far as I can tell, is also overestimated. Or how about that it took me three weeks to make a note on the bamboo flute (but arduous study made me the best). Neither one of those facts is true. Or the fact that I had a life threatening illness on fall break. Not quite. But I am probably foolish to shed Truth on my legend.

Who wants to know that in reality my fall break illness was a result of hiking 27 kilometers barefoot through brush with a Chinese peasant on my shoulders? Or that my incredible concentration when learning Chinese is due to the lighted candle I hold my palm over?

No, no one, I would think.

Fully aware that this might backfire and cause her to kill me from afar, I will post this picture and bravely announce that today marks one year for Alice and me together. And that it has been quite a year. Above is Dance Marathon, probably around hour 12,327.

You try and claim this: I went on vacation to Shanghai and back. In 6 hours. Aside from the astounding speed of my roommate's and my trip, we also visited a really old church, the Shanghai City Planning Museum, the Bund, a psychotic tunnel under the river to the other side, and Asia's third tallest building. We ended by literally dashing through subways and hurdling barriers (think James Bond, but more handsome) to make our train. Whew. I hope you're as tired as I am.

I would say that my brainwashing, I mean course on the Chinese Communist Party, is going well. We have only met once so far, but the effect has been impressive and immediate. Not only am I clearing up a lot of misunderstandings I had, but I am all important vocabulary to properly discuss the subject. The next time students in Beijing cause a ruckus, I will be more than prepared to go out and explain to them the error in their ways. A recent excerpt from class:

Teacher: What function does Marxism-Leninism have?
Me: It is the basis for Chinese socialism. It must be adjusted for China's situation.
Teacher: How do we know the "correct road"
Me: We must study Mao Ze Dong Thought and Deng Xiao Ping Theory
Teacher: Yes.

As we read about the possible need for class struggle in the future and the elimination of the capitalist class (it is necessary for one group, preferably high ranking officials, to get rich first, and then make everyone else rich too), my teacher shows no indication that he finds this to be, well, polished. Meanwhile, I am trying not to laugh. But I suppose as a political science professor and member of the CCP, he's had a lot more practice than I have.

Above is my professor, Yang Laoshi and me, finishing up fall semester

Sick of my international travel horror stories? Good, me too. So I won't tell you about the Big Fog in Beijing that canceled over 200 flights and delayed mine until 3:00 in the morning. Nor will I bring up that I stayed up the night before leaving, so by the time I got to Hangzhou on Thursday morning (China time) I had not slept since Sunday night. No, I won't mention any of that.

Above is me and my new roommate, 卢赛喜 (Lu Sai Xi). He is an applied chemistry graduate student from southern Zhe Jiang province. I knew things would be good when I woke him up at 6:00 am to let me in the dorm and he could smile. As for my generally scalding re-entry into China, things are going pretty well. Classes start Monday, and I am hoping that I won't instantly be reduced to tears, ala my previous start of classes. Of course, it's probably best to count on the worst. Then nothing can go wrong.