Gobble gobble.

I just spent my first thanksgiving away from home, but I was surrounded by family. The PCVs in the Guizhou province came together in the capital, Guiyang, for some old fashioned turkey, stuffing, and (God bless) pumpkin pie. What a great time.

I arrived on Friday after a longer-than-usual 7 hour bus ride. There was some hold up due to construction and a traffic accident, but I wasn't complaining because the seats on the bus were HUGE (think first class on an airplane) and there was an English movie, Transporter 3. I'm pretty sure that the bus drivers put on English movies just for the foreigners, but the other passengers seemed interested too, so no love lost.

After arriving, I indulged in some western food at Papa John's Restaurant with some friends from China 14. Very Delicious. It's difficult to figure out WHY you are serving in the Peace Corps while you are mowing down on fresh pizza; that's another topic for another post.

Back to T-day. SO EPIC. There's nothing like camaraderie when you're away from your family. The celebration was a great; the perfect mix of cooking and eating was achieved, and efforts in the kitchen segued into efforts on the plate. We even had a few expat families running around with little (and adorable) toddlers. I don't think a Thanksgiving is complete without a young family fussing about somewhere. Much love to those that were there.

After the dinner though, things got decidedly more young adult. A group of us ventured forth with turkey in our veins. We hit a local bar and had some Chinese beer while discussing the ins and outs of community development, global economics, and the pros of popping bottle tops on wooden tables. Very good.

An uncanny knack

I'm not a super good planner when it comes to most things. In the day-to-day, I'm one part frantic, two parts procrastinating, mixed over a generous portion of impulsive and topped with scatterbrained. I get the necessities accomplished, like classes, meetings, and the gym, but its the other stuff that takes thought in the morning (or, Lord forbid, the night before) and execution in the afternoon that tends to fall into oblivion. This includes, but is in no way limited to, cooking meals, laundry, cleaning, and shopping for things like soap.

However, I have possessed an uncanny knack for lining up the distant future. In 8th grade at Saint Francis Xavier Prepatory School I boldly told my Math and English/Religion teachers that I would teach English someday. Look at me now, half way around the world, teaching Chinese students that, despite what the text book says, 'Wazzup' is wildly inappropriate underneath any imaginable circumstances. In my junior year at Barnstable High School I decided that the University of Maine at Farmington was the school I would attend. Indeed, that was the only school I applied to; it was where I was going, and damn all the nay sayers (although there weren't any).

I started my PC application in junior year of UMF, and after 14 months of doubt, waiting only on my graduation, I was bound for San Francisco, and then the PRC. In all truth, I had the PC in mind way before that, pretty much from the beginning of my undergrad. I don't mean to brag; I don't think this is even a skill, it just happens. I can't guarantee I'll take the laundry out of the wash, but so far I've been able to tell you where I'll be in three years time.

And, with that in mind, I hazard this forecast: I'll be back on two planks (for those who don't feel the pull of mountains, two planks means skis, because there are... two of them) within 26 months, depending on the snowfall of the northeast.

Basketball and hot pot

No classes today, so the morning was little lazy. Here's an adventure from the evening:

At four, after my nice, long, daily nap (they are mandatory), I woke up and donned my basketball gear. I'm getting pretty good, and the sport has more or less eclipsed running for me here. The streets are HECTIC and the pavement is a little slippery, so running is extra adventurous. Anyways, I went down to the courts, shot around, and waited for the usual "Holy-crap-there's-a-foreigner-playing-basketball-lets-go-watch-and-play-too" crowd to show up. We got some good three on three going, it was a good few games. I'm not that great at the sport; I make dumb passing mistakes, my shooting is a little off, and my ball handling is akin to that of an enthusiastic but uncoordinated child. BUT, I am large, tall, and rowdy, so my lay-ups looking more like bowling then they do basketball, and my usual position is directly under the net, hands skyward, catching any rebound God sends my way. These tactics have delivered limited to adequate success.

Anyways, after the games I showered up, and headed out to get me some food. I was planning on going it alone; the site mate was elsewhere and I had no other plans. Some of my students/basketball team mates grabbed me, though, and took me out to bean hot-pot (delicious) and took me for a walk (relaxing). I love China.

Thats all for now. More... later.

Played that for a while, went back to the flat, showered, and headed out to get some food alone. One of my students/team mates saw me, and we managed to communicate the idea of "dinner" through our mutually broken chingrish (chinese english, I'm not sure where the "r" come from). We met up with about 7 others, all of which were extremely delighted to meet and speak with a foreigner. Right now, there is only about three of us in the entire city. Got to restaurant, they took to long, so we straight bailed, walked right out, and got to another spot that served a local delicacy, Bean Hot Pot.

Restless Legs

Its August and I feel it in my legs. I am subconsciously antsy, anxious, awaiting the winter. I've felt this before, the sensation is familiar, and in past years even welcome. I'm day dreaming more, drifting out of language class, envisioning snow on each steep pitch I see. More and more often I am replaying different ski runs in my mind, imagining what they would be like in different conditions. A minute ago I was racing down Gondi line, my skis arching big GS turn over fresh, responsive corduroy. Now I'm picking my turns through the trees at Saddleback, dodging the pines in Thrombosis, floating on 14 inches of new snow. The situation changes, but the sport, the spirit, the want stays the same.

Unfortunately for my ski-happy spirit, this new situation has landed me in southern, subtropical China. Turns out there very little snow, although no lack of steep peaks.

In past seasons, I have taken a very American, consumerist approach to quelling the angst: shopping. Usually around this time, from July through September, I'm hunting for new gear. Last year I bought an ill, super warm Sessions jacket and some new Spy goggles. They year before that I invested in a telemark setup. THAT was a blast; I purchased new Black Diamond planks, new G3 Targa bindings, and a pair of used Garmont boots.

The fall that I bought that tele gear, the fall of Junior in college when I was living in the yellow bungalow in Maine, still brewing beer and riding longboards, me and my house mate Andy were stir crazy for snow. It was September, we laid out a white polar fleece blanket, and tried on our gear. There we were, two dude in shorts and tee-shirts, but from the calves down we were skiers. I buckled up the boots and even dropped a few knees. In September. In my living room. The anxiousness got that bad.

Around the same time, on a warm afternoon, we threw on our snow pants, grabbed some beers, and sat around watching ski movies. Yup, we stay classy in Maine.

This season, as far as gear goes, I keep thinking about about the Icelantic (a ski company) Nomads or Scouts, the Full Tilt all-mountain boots (the ones with three different lasts for different conditions), and Marker's Jester bindings, those things look burly. That would be my wish-list for this next season.

So yes, I've been day dreaming, much to the dismay of my language class. I admit, I haven't been all there during some of the sessions. I need a release, another activity. I've been running, but its never been the same as skiing. Basketball is a little better, but it still lacks the necessary qualities. I need to get stoked on something. Don't get me wrong, I am happy here in China, and I am excited to be serving, and I am excited to teach, but there is no STOKE. As my buddy Johnny Tsunami would say, I've got to find the gnar (root word of gnarly). I haven't found my gnar here in China yet, but I think I've got a lead.

Near my site there runs a river, the Maling (or Malinghe) river, through a gorge of the same name. The gorge is known for its beauty, its size, and its international rafting competitions. They do some commercial rafting there, but it looks a lot different from rafting back home (for instance, they pole their way down the river and the customers don't paddle).

Retroactive Post: The Host Family

There is an 8 week span in the blog's history that lacks a post. I was without the internet, and writing wasn't on my mind. This is the first of (hopefully) a series of posts regarding those weeks of Pre-Service Training.

I would be remiss to not include a blog post about my host family. If had a stable connection to blogger for the past eight weeks, there would already be mention of them in my blog, but alas.

Host families are an important aspect of PC PST in China and, as far as I am aware, in other PC countries as well. The home-stay portion of PST allows PCTs to interact more directly with the host country culture, live in a full immersion language environment, and experience the support that only a family can provide. Long story short, host families are super important.

I live with a young host family comprised of Leaf (host mum,) David, (host dad), Aiyi (Leaf's mum, Aiyi means aunt in Chinese), Shushu (leaf's dad, Shushu means uncle), and Tiantian (literal translation: sweet sweet, she is Leaf and David's 11 month old baby girl). The family dynamic is great, they get along, and the household is upbeat and cheerful.

There are many very positive aspects to my host family, such as their concern for my well being, their motivation to show me the best parts of Chengdu, and their understanding of my need to see PCT friends and sometimes be alone. Despite their all around greatness, there is one trait that sticks out in my mind: Shushu's cooking. Shushu and Aiyi used to own a restaurant, but they have since retired and mostly take care of the house and mind Tiantian when David and Leaf are at work. Shushu cooks every meal for us, breakfast lunch and dinner, and he knows how to cook Sichuan dishes. AMAZING.

I'm definitely going to miss this family when I leave. Hopefully I can keep up contact with them while I am site.

10,000 peaks and nowhere to go.

Today my site mate and I were lead by our Waiban (Foreign Affairs Officer in the university) to a local located but nationally renowned geological treasure: the 10,000 peak forest. The Chinese characters translate literally to "10,000 peak forest", which make sense, because the attraction is literally tens of thousands of peaks formed by eroded calcium deposits left by (I think) sea water in the (I think) Triassic period. Regardless, the area is beautiful. Imagine a VERY steep, near vertical hill, roughly 500 to 1500 feet tall. Now imagine 10,000 to 20,000 of them. You get the idea.

Don't worry, photos will appear, once I find the cord to connect my camera to the laptop. Promise.

So, anyways, the adventure was great. We got the chance to have lunch in this fantastic local restaurant, known best for its hosting the president, or maybe the party leader, of China back in 2004. After that my site mate, my Waiban, and I walked a scenic road that offered great views of the area. A rain storm hit, but we were picked up by a little tour bus just in time. It was great, but...

But I had to ask I people were allowed to hike or climb in the mountains. I was given a questionable answer, "Why would anyone want to?" To which I asked, "Well, why the hell not?" These types of questions tend to chase each other like a dog and his tail, or a yin and an yang, so I will spare you the play by play. Long story short, I want to hike those hills, and I don't care if no one has done it before me.

Post a comment if you can see/explain/understand the cultural divide here. Gimmee some relativism.

Let the goodbyes begin

I just returned home from a fantastic trip to Bar Harbor, Maine. Since Friday, I have driven over 21 hours on the interstates and byways of New Hampshire and Maine, and while interstate driving is not my favorite activity, especially during epic rainfall, I gladly made the trek with my girlfriend to go say good bye to a handful of close collegiate friends.

Bar Harbor is absolutely beautiful, if you can get past/around/through the tourist crowds that sustain the community's economy. I have no problem with tourists on the individual level, as I'll soon be one overseas. Its crowds of tourists that get my goat. Luckily its still early in the season and the weather sucked, so there weren't hordes of people out on the streets.

Its weird, with roughly a week left before staging, the real goodbyes have begun; other the past weekend I said au revoir to people who love me. Until yesterday, the common parting message would usually be See you tomorrow/in a week/in a month, but now that's changed. See you in 27 months, if all goes to plan carries a uniquely immediate and fatalistic tone. I'm trying not to be fatalistic about this, but I've never been staring down such an alienating and extended absense before.

In lighter news, I cut all my hair off. Well, almost all; I left about an 8th of an inch on the top of my head. Before I left for Bar Harbor I hit up a local barber and ordered a buzz cut. She was nice enough to take the razors to my face, as well, making the shaving process far easier. So now I'm clean cut and ready to look business-casual for staging and PST. Woo-hoo.

My Dog ate my Chacos.

I've been trying to write this post for three days now. Time to just get it out.

Long story short, one of my dogs at one of my Chacos, which is really too bad, because I love my Chacos almost as much as I love my dogs. For those who aren't familiar with Chacos, they are a footwear company that produces tough, reliable, sandals. For those who aren't familiar with dogs, they are adorable, four legged mammals, sometimes equipped with unending appetites for love and loose nylon.

Damage Assessment: non-critical.

Flyer, my family's six month old mini Australian Shepard, gnawed into one of the buckle straps of my Chaco Hipthongs. The sandal was laying on the floor (go figure, its a shoe) and he got into it. He's just a little boy though, and he's still teething, so its really my fault. When I found the damage, I told him sternly "Flyer, you're VERY lucky that I love you." Then I scratched his belly. I can't hold a grudge against a puppy.

Seriously though, I love these sandals. I was an ardent Birkenstock devotee until about a year and a half ago when I was given a pair of Chacos. You could probably count the number of days I haven't worn my Chacos since then on two hands.

Just as an example, as evidence to substantiate my rave about these sandals, consider the following. I worked at Saddleback Ski School in Rangeley Maine nearly every weekend (and some weeks) last season. Sometimes the temperatures on the hour drive from Farmington to Rangeley, Maine, would drop below -10 Fahrenheit and there was routinely a 70 yard walk through the snow to get from the employee parking to the lodge. On any given weekend it was my Chacos that carried me through the ankle deep snow. If only I could have fit those suckers into telemark bindings, I would have skied in them too.

Needless to say, those sandals are going to see China.

Dreams and photos

This post concerns a dream I had last night. I've heard that reading and listening to other peoples dreams can be one of the more boring subjects, so I've added some pretty pictures of my parents house, my pre-staging staging spot, in New Hampshire. If you don't want to read about my dream, you can look at pretty pictures. And theres even a puppy!

I dreamed about the PC last night; I guess I've been thinking about departure so much that its permeated my subconscious. I don't imagine that China/PST/Chengdu will be anything like what I saw in my dream, but it was neat. I'll just paraphrase some of the notable moments:

The dream started with me waking up on a dirt country road with all my gear, in medias res, if you will. So very Dante-esque. I wasn't scared, although I knew that I needed to get huffing because I needed be at PST by 8 AM. SO I started to move it, running along this road with valleys and lakes to my left and pretty hefty granite rock slope/cliff on my right. On the walk I noticed three things: China looks a lot like New Hampshire (I don't believe this is true), I couldn't figure out what time it was back home so I was afraid to call (I'm not planning on carrying a phone), and my luggage felt rediculously light (80 pounds is 80 pounds in any country).

After running down a well worn dirt road, I found that PST was being held in a building that minutes late and looked quite a bit like an American public middle or high school. I arrived about fivefound a room full of Americans. Assuming the were all PCVs I set my gear down an searched for a bathroom. I think the difficulty I had with finding the restrooms symbolizes my apprehensions surrounding the Mandarin lanuage; I couldn't find what I needed, I couldn't ask for what I needed, and I really had to go pee.

Its been quiet on the eastern front. Too quiet. Where have all the China PCV posts gone? I realize that there's a ban on blogger, but I had expected some American ingenuity and technological side stepping.  I guess I'm just hungry for news from the nation.

I'm living with the parents now in their fantastic, newly renovated home in New Hampshire, USA. Even though I grew up by the ocean, with "sand in my shoes" as my mum says, I feel so much more at home in the hills and mountains. I'm very thankful/excited/relieved to have my parents living in foothills rather than sand dunes. Don't get me wrong, sand dunes are beautiful, I just happen to prefer rolling hills, solitude of the mountains, wilderness, etc.

Today I need to get more paperwork in line. My fantastic (ex)adviser at UMF pushed my transcript and teacher certifications through the bureaucratic tangles of various education offices, and now I need to send them away. Additionally, my $30,000 worth of loans need to be dealt with, and, oh yeah, I've got to unpack my entire life from my van. And then pack it up again and huff it half way across the globe. 

So yeah, and China PCVs or fellow applicants, post away and give me something to read!

Packing Lists

Next step: packing lists.

I'm being torn in two different directions when I compile packing lists for China. I don't want to forget anything, and yet I don't want to bring too much. The cause of the conflict is simple: I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.

When I hiked Mt Katahdin for the first time, I definitely brought too much. My 3000 cu inch pack was full of photo gear, layers, bags of gorp, water bottles and bladders, spare socks, spare spare socks, mini med kits, hats, sun glasses, sun screen, bandannas, and so on and so forth. I learned my lesson: the next year I carried a tiny day pack with one layer, a liter of water, and a sandwich. It turns out you really don't need a lot of gear for a day hike.

All in all, I'm attempting to pack for 2 years over seas, and its not easy. I've got to remember, and correct me if I am wrong current PCVs, that I can find things I need in China. Its not like I'm living in uninhabited wilderness for two years; I'll be teaching at a university in a city. I can do this.

If you're in China or you've been there, please give me packing tips. I've heard shoes are tough to come by for Americans with big feet, so I'm packing a few pair, along with socks, spare insoles, etc. Anything else I should stock up on? I think I read somewhere that deodorant is tough to come by. True?

Offically invited!

I received my Peace Corps invitation packet today. The online toolkit said that it was mailed on the 27th, so I didn't know when I'd receive it. A week? 5 days? Nope, only two. I guess the PC gets shit done when they are in a rush.

Whose got two thumbs and is going to China in exactly two months? This guy.

The packet is thick! Three booklets, one around 90 pages, another a little slimmer, and another even slimmer; they shrink in size as they grow specific. On top of those, there are a few letters, one of welcome, one of congratulations, and then a series of documents that need to be filled out and returned in the addressed envelope included at the bottom.

I've got ten (or so) days to call the HQ and tell them I want to go. One of the letters says that the person on the other end of the phone is going to quiz me on the stuff in the thick booklet. We'll see what this brain, steeped in the hoop-jumping routine of American public education, can do with that quiz.

So, anyways, I am stoked. This will be an adventure, once I'm done wading through the paper work. What that you say? The paper work never ends? Well, at least that's another constant, on top of death and taxes.

Unoffically invited

I've recieved unoffical invitation to the Peace Corps, and it has put the ENTIRE prospect of going away into a brand new light. Before yesterday, the PC was a possibility, a tenuous, vapid possibility that existed in the clouds of the future, partly visibile, and mostly obscured by all the things that laid between then and now. But now, with a definite (albeit unoffical, I'll get to that in a second) date of departure and at least a nation to aim at, rather than a continent, things have became far more tangible. I am going to China. I am leaving in 64 days.

I missed a call last thursday from the PC placement office, and I didn't check my messages until Sunday morning. A placement officer had called, hinting at a "special oppertunity" for me if my schedule fit the timeline. I called the PC office back on monday, and after some phone tag I got in touch with the officer. Ihad a 20 minute conversation while pacing in the Wal-Mart school supply aisle. I've never enjoyed being in that store more than during that call.

Long story short, the PC had an opening in the Chinese program leaving June 29th that needed to be filled before it got to late. My window of placement was from July through September, but I don't mind being bumped up a little. My summer plans will change, but I can't wait to leave. A definite date is what I was waiting for; now i've got it.

SO now I'm waiting for the offical paperwork. My PC account has been updated, and I'm waiting to sign the volunteer papers. More later, my roomate wants to play ball.