The Commie . net

I’ll post the park photos when I’m darn well ready!  Quiet you!

Currently whistling: “Funiculì, Funiculà” by Luigi Denza

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Dear The Eric,

Today my heart leapt!*  This was perhaps the greatest day I’ve had in China so far.  Regular, seasoned viewers will realize that, considering my trip so far, this would not be a difficult task to accomplish.  I’m not sure what made it so great.  I slept it, went to church, and then picked up my replacement at the airport.

My replacement’s a really great, really tall guy from Detroit who had several questions on the subway ride from the airport to his friends’ subway stop.  The only question I had was why his friends couldn’t pick him up from the airport themselves, but this wasn’t really a problem as I got to meet a nice person.

I don’t know.  It was just a good day.  For the first time, a homeless person came up to me and asked for money.  And then, after we arrived at Ryan’s friends’ stop, another beggar asked for money.  Odd.  This was just the same old subway stop that I’ve been using to get to my 3rd graders every week.  Yet that night, it seemed so much trendier for some reason.  There were foreigners and cool people, and after I dropped Ryan off, there was a guitar player on the subway for my ride back.  An excellent day.

*Seasoned readers to the show will recognise this as a reference to something else and not just flowery language.

Currently whistling: “Blue Sunny Day” by Jonathan Coulton

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How long are you planning on staying in China?
About another week.

No, I mean how long will your trip be all together?
Two-and-a-half months.

How long was it supposed to be?  I thought you were going to be there for a year.
The official answer to that before I left was “I’ll be in China for a year, unless I hate it, in which case I’ll stay for a semester.”  Well, guess what.

What are you going to do after returning to the United States?
I’m going to have an appetizer sampler from Apple Bee’s with a ramekin of ranch, and then I’m going to work at Walt Disney World in Florida again at my wonderful job at Prime Time.

Do you have any more projects lined up?
Oh boy howdy, I sure do.

So… what are they?
I’m not telling, and I’ll tell you why.  Last time I planned a huge trip (China), I built it up so much that I felt like all my friends would think me a wimp if I backed out at any point.  My trip should’ve been planned more, and as a result, I didn’t have as fun of a time as I perhaps could have if I’d just simply kept my mouth shut in the first place and done this at a reasonable pace.
However, I will say that, as always, I’m very interesting in Sign Language, acting, and finding a place to live.

What exactly is Oliver World Domination?
It’s… kinda like this:

You’re goin’ down, Bethany Douty.

Currently whistling: “Theme from Zoobilee Zoo“

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For when I don’t feel like saying more than a sentence or two about China (which is a lot), you can follow me on Twitter.  If not, my updates will still be in the sidebar of TheCommie.Net (look on the right).  If you don’t know what Twitter is or you find it confusing or superfluous, you are my mother.

Currently whistling: “Prepare ye The Way of the Lord”
from Godspell by Stephen Schwartz and John-Michael Tebelak

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A New Hope.

Today, I took two previously undiscovered buses to work today, taught my Kindergartners about the weather and then took two more buses home to David and Yao Ming’s wonderful, beautiful Godsent of an apartment.  David helped me figure out the buses on the way there, and my assistant Carrie helped me on the way back.  But I think I can do it by myself now.  I don’t have a picture of the apartment because my camera’s still with Rebecca.  Well actually, I suppose I could use the camera in my MacBook Pro.

Yesterday, David and… his wife… took me to a Brazilian buffet which was absolutely WONDERFUL and which was the first time I’d filled a whole plate since arriving in China.  It was also the first time I’d emptied a whole plate since arriving in China.  That evening, David and I went to a Korean restaurant and had some breaded, fried chicken.  The first piece I got was all cartilage.  Then we realized that was what we had ordered.

“I knew we should’ve broung Yao Ming,” David said.

But then we order some sweet’n’sour pork, and it was great.  I also learned that, when the only drinks available are hot water and hot tea, there is no stigma attached to getting up from a table, going next door to a conviencience store and bringing back a Tropicana fruit juice.  I need to remember to go to Rebecca’s to get my Passport (and… you know… everything I own) so I can register my location with the police.  You’re supposed to do that within 24 hours.

Next week, if all goes according to my evil plan, the three of us will see Puccini’s opera Tosca which is about an escaped political prison, an opera singer, a policeman, cross-dressing and a fake bullet that turns out to be real.  Though I have never seen it myself (and would frankly rather see something either in English or instrumental) Wikipedia assures me that this is the 8th most performed opera in North America.  So… there’s that.

Turns out my gracious hosts are kinda into the arts aswel.  This sure beats having to evade sports questions.  I mean sure, they’re not Mr. and Mrs. Sanders, but I took it as a good sign with Yao Ming was browsing through the theater’s website and said, “[Gasp!]  Opera!”

And we won’t be seeing this at the Ching Chong High School auditorium, either.  This will be performed in the Beijing National Centre for the Performing Arts.  It looks like this on the outside.

And it looks like this apparently in Sim City.

Here’s a view if you’re in the audience (of a very unpopular show, apparently):

And here’s what it looks like if you’re a fish who can’t sing:

Apparently, they charge $4.50 just to see the theater while there’s no show.  So this should a very interesting night at the opera.

But really, I’m just thankful that I no longer have two gross destinations at the end of a gross bus ride.  Thank you, God!

Currently whistling: “Confutatis Maledictis” by Wolfgang A. Mozart

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As if the story of my trip to China were a novel or a predictable movie, my luck has started to change here in the final act.

As you may know, because my recruiter didn’t take my one month’s resignation notice seriously (”I thought you would change your mind!”), I have decided to stay in China for an additional two weeks, even though I hate it and have very recently been hit with a case of culture shock.  Culture shock, it turns out, is more difficult than it sounds.   I had always assumed that culture shock was for little mamby-pamby Americans who simply wouldn’t be able to cope with a country that didn’t have McDonalds or that drove on the left side of the road or where the signs were in another language.  In short–wimps.

So it came as quite a surprise to me, two days ago, when I noticed that my telephone call to Expedia caused me to cry.   And we’re not talking about a tear or two that I could shrug off.  No, no.   This wasn’t the type of crying that one does in church or a movie theater.  That type of crying starts with your eyes.  When culture shock snuck up on me, it was with huge mouth sobs.  And then it would go away.  And then I’d be on the bus, wanting to scream, “Why won’t someone hug me!?”  And then I’d be fine.  And then I’d get home, start chatting with my friends perfectly normally, and something would happen.  For instance yesterday, my friend Matthew and I were discussing the movie “Still Waiting” so I looked up some facts on Wikipedia just as he said, “Yeah, that’s what Wikipedia’s good for.”  And the coincidence that we both used the same online internet information resource at the same time struck me as such evidence of our kinship that its contrast was unbearable! How could I live in a place where people don’t all use the same online internet information resource!? What’s wrong with them?  No one understands me!  No one!  I am a rock!  I am an island!

After excusing myself and walking to my bed, I put my face in my pillow and cried the huge sadness of a small child in fear.  Unashamed, enormous tears that acted like they had something to prove.  I wanted to take a picture to see if I looked like Reece Witherspoon in “Election.”  And at the same time, in my mind, all I was thinking was, “Hmm, I could wash these sheets and then dry them tomorrow while I’m out.  That way, they’d be ready in time for bed.   Maybe I’m hungry.  I should eat later.  I wonder if I look like Reece Witherspoon in the scene right after Chris Klein found out he’d won.”  I wasn’t thinking sad thoughts at all.  It was as if my mind was still perfectly fine and intact, but my subconscious was taking the wheel.  I wasn’t really sad at all; I was just crying; and I was watching this situation as an outsider might.

This was Saturday night.  So after some way too heartfelt conversations with my parents, I went to bed.

The next day, I got Joyce up and decided that we would go to the silk market to find some of that crazy silk for MoM.  But I also had to go to the ATM and the post office, so we ended up not having any time before that and the church meeting, and I almost decided just to skip church and get silk, but I didn’t.

I went ahead to church, knowing I’d get there way too early.  I didn’t.  I got there 10 minutes early–the earliest I’d ever been to this church.  This was perhaps the first time I wasn’t late.  On the way there, I’d remembered that MoM had wanted me to check out the building I’d had in the dream.  I looked inside, but didn’t go in.  I was just a convenience store.  Convenience shack.  Besides, the dream was about the outside of the building.  The corner beside it.  This corner turned out to be right beside the subway entrance to my church.  Anyway, I get to church, and we learn about the Beatitudes.  We didn’t get as far as David had wanted to, but we learned a lot and discussed much.  There was a point in which The Doctor was discussing the ethics of physician-assisted suicide while his 7-year-old daughter was putting bunny ears on him and grinning at no one in particular.

After church, we were wrapping up, and everyone was asking me how I was doing, so I told them about my apartment situation.  Because I’ll be staying here for another two weeks and because my current roommate will be moving back to America before then (and because he’s a psychopath) my extended stay created the need for a new apartment.  One of the stipulations of my extended stay with my recruiter was that she had to find me a place to live and that, regardless of what it would cost her, would only cost me what I had been paying for the psycho flat: 1,300 RMB ($190).  So she, being the clever fox she is, sent me a text to say that I would be living with her for the next two weeks.  Yes, I would be sharing my life with the woman whose negligence caused me to be stuck in China in the first place.  But upon comparing this with living with someone who woke me up because I’d left bread crumbs on the counter the morning after he’d left this in the toilet,

it didn’t seem that bad.

So Saturday, Joyce had helped me to move my two big, main suitcases, via taxi, to Rebecca’s apartment.  Rebecca showed me the nice room, gave me a key and asked when I’d be moving in.  I told her it would be the following night.  Not only would the apartment be awkward, but Rebecca lived even further away from my school than I did.  It would probably take about 1.5 to 2 hours to travel to the school.  On the bus ride back from Rebecca’s, I was asking Joyce about her new apartment.  Turn out she would be living about a block or two away from our current place.
“I don’t suppose I could live there with you, could I?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Wait… what?  I can move in with you instead of Rebecca?”
“Well, I’d have to make a bed on the floor beside mine, and I’d have to ask my roommates.”
“But you’d be okay with me living there?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Well why didn’t you say that to begin with!?”
We were traveling away from luggage, but it was nice to know that it wouldn’t stay there for long.

The thing was, I wasn’t really thrilled about staying with Joyce either, I was just glad to have an alternative.  Joyce’s apartment would now be an hour bus ride plus a 15-20 walk in the mornings and evenings.  Not great, but I kept telling myself that it would be nice because I’d “already know the area.”  This wasn’t quite true.  I have never learned that area as something told me I wouldn’t want to.

I was telling all this to my friends at church, when the leader David said, “Well, you could live with us if you want.”

I… didn’t know what to say.

“We have a 3rd bedroom, and it would be free.”

“Are… you sure?  I mean, this isn’t like ‘oh well, we’ll see.’  I seriously might take you up on your offer.”

“Yeah!  I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“…I will email you tomorrow.”  And so I did.  And here I am.  My main luggage is still at Rebecca’s.  My back kinda hurts from lugging my three other bags through an hour of the subways.  And I am extremely thankful to be living in a place with nice people.  I’ve never felt right about being on the receiving end of a church’s generosity farther than pot luck suppers, but this just seemed like one of those “answered prayers” situations.  I just got back from a Brazilian dinner with David and his Chinese wife who’s name I SWEAR I’ll remember at some point.  It was the first time since coming to China that I put as much on my plate as I could.

My China adventure may just leave me with some positive experiences after all.

Currently whistling: “Song That Goes Like This” from Spamalot

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The delayed episode “Turn of Fortune” is coming soon.  We apologize for the time lapse.  Until then… time lapse!

Currently whistling: “Heaven on Their Minds” from
Jesus Christ Superstar by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber

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It’s funny how life works out.  One minute you feel so strongly about something as if reaching that goal is the only thing keeping you alive, and then suddenly you change your mind.  …and then you realize you’re an idiot that thing really had been the only thing keeping you alive.

It seemed so clear this morning.  Today, I went to work for one of my planning days and ended up having an hour-long conversation with my parents on the phone instead.  When I got there, it turned out that they hadn’t had class after all and that this had been the 400th time I was uninformed of a schedule change.  But I started thinking about some of the things they’d said while begging me not to leave China on Monday.  I’d been looking forward to it for a month, but I had to admit they had a good argument.  Ann came into the back office where I was, and I told her that, after all, I was sorry that she’d been put into such a rough position.  When she admited that it was my recruiter Rebecca’s fault and not mine, it felt so good that I suddenly forgot why I hated China.

And email from Rebecca that morning said that if I’d only stay for another two weeks, she’d pay for the airline change fee and find me another place to live.  Why not?  Another two weeks of good pay for what?  A half-dozen classes that I admited to myself really weren’t all that bad and the ability to leave my awful roommate.  Why shouldn’t I stay?  Because I’d run out of Skype credit, I asked Gary to call my parents and have them call me.  When they did, we talked for an hour, and I cried.  It felt good.  We finally decided that it wouldn’t be all that bad and that I would be able to last another two weeks.

I wrote Rebecca an email and gave a copy to Ann.

When I got back to the apartment, my good roommate Joyce was there, and together we went to work on fixing my plane tickets.  Because I now had more time, I could not go to Hong Kong Disneyland.  This was probably my mistake. My old flight of Beijing to Nashville on the 6th was charged a fee and changed to Hong Kong to Johnson City on the 20th.  The fee to have it changed was about $490.  But my Expedia operator Henry told me that I could lower it to $350 if I was okay with a really long layover in San Fransisco.  Eleven hours.  Being my father’s son, of course I said yes.  I’m so dumb.  Eleven hours that, to me, will feel like they’re occuring from midnight to 11am.  And then I go to Phoenix.  And then I go to Charolette.  And then I go to Johnson City.  In total, I will be on four airplanes, and the trip will take 36 hours.

The cost of the transfer will be $350.  The cost from Beijing to Hong Kong Disneyland will be about $380.  And I’ll need to find a hotel for two nights.  For my two extra weeks in Beijing, I will get paid an extra $806 which will be completely consumed by my frivelous extra flight to Disney, all because I’m afraid of saying ‘no’ when people ask me if I went there.  Joyce said that she would try to go, but if her job hires her in that time, she won’t be able.  The way that things work for me in my life, there is no WAY she’ll actually be able to go.  And I’ll be traveling to Hong Kong by myself with four pieces of luggage.  And then I’ll be wondering about San Fransisco with two pieces of luggage for eleven hours.  I’m stupid.  I don’t like myself right now.  And I’ve been crying all day.