Friday, October 16, 2009

well, I can sing you a storyline// and if you like my story, fine

Well, dear ones, here I am again. I was not very busy at all over the National Day break, but I spent most of my extra time letting myself just be in Nanjing without having to do anything. I did a bit of reading and a good deal of thinking for all of my classes, and also a bit of random wandering around the city.
Xiaoxuan and I (with a few other classmates) had decided to get out and see some of the sights in Nanjing during our week off, but our trip to 夫子庙 (Fuzi Miao- the Confucious temple) convinced us that this was not a good plan. The crowd exemplified the Chinese phrase 人山人海 (ren shan ren hai- mountains and seas of people). Xiaoxuan and Rong Fan both asked me at different times if I had ever seen crowds like that in the US. I told them ‘kind of.’ I’ve seen groups of people that tightly packed in big cities or big malls in the US, but the knowledge in China that this population density stretches across such vast areas, the knowledge that in Nanjing I am surrounded by 8 million people in one (granted, quite large) municipality, is overwhelming on a new level. That evening we decided against paying 30 yuan to go into the park itself and instead walked back to “Aqua City,” a large shopping complex with a lot of expensive foreign stores. I bought myself a coke and just walked around looking at people and stores, explaining that in the US most of my clothes come from second-hand stores. Clothes in most stores were about as much as new American clothes are in the US, some slightly more expensive since it is so foreign and fashionable.
Another evening an American friend and I ventured to Nanjing’s Downtown. We, again, mostly just walked around. She needed a set of drawers for her closet, and we both decided it was wise to buy economy-packs of toilet paper. We quickly realized, however, that the evening before National Day was not the best choice of times. We found ourselves heading home around the same time (about 10:30pm) that the vast majority of taxi drivers had decided was quittin’ time. After half an hour or so of unsuccessfully trying to hail a cab at one of the busiest intersections in downtown Nanjing, Stephanie left me standing by the side of the road with her drawers and our collective 40-or-so rolls of toilet paper and ventured upstream to try her luck in less populated waters. About another 20 minutes later she pulled up in a taxi, with the driver crying “hurry! I’m not supposed to stop here!” I threw the TP in the backseat and pulled the drawers in behind me. We had a lovely chat with the driver on the way home. Also: we made it home. I called it a win.
I actually started drawing over break, which I’ve hardly ever done before. I don’t let myself draw, I say “I can’t draw,” because I’m not very good at making realistic pictures. It is, however, a fantastic exercise for my brain to just let myself start filling a page with shapes. It’s interesting, because when I worked at Prairie Flower (Waldorf) Preschool, that’s what we told kids to do. Not to worry about what they were representing, but just to enjoy the process of colors happening on paper. But I still feel like it’s illigetimate a lot of the time, I stop myself from picking up my pencil because I don’t know what will be on the page when I finish. I’ve (once again) proven to myself that this doesn’t matter. I’ve got a few pages that are really fun, if not amazing technically. And drawing them helped me wake up my brain in ways that no amount of article-reading or paper-writing can.
Let’s see. I’ve let too much time pass and am going to dump a lot of stories on you at once, I’m afraid.
I met with a family last Sunday through The Five Project, with hooks volunteers up with families of children and young adults with autism or other mental challenges. They assumed that since I was American I could tell them all about how autism is treated in the US and what they should do with their son. I, and the Five Project coordinator who came with me, corrected them that I just want to provide a “friendship” flavor of support, and they seemed like they might be ok with that. They’re coming by the Center this Sunday afternoon, and we’ll see if we can make our relationship productive. Their son was very sweet. He learned my name and made eye contact (on his parents’ promptings) and thanked me for coming to their home. I think his memory of me, however, will be most involved with the strange way my hand smelled (like my soap, I hope), which formed the main topic of our personal interaction.
I am helping out at a weekend school where another friend works tomorrow morning. More on that after it’s happened, perhaps :)
…You can, perhaps, tell that I decided a while ago that I was spending too much time on the Center and with other Center students, and have been trying to add more variety to my schedule. I may have overdone it, but not of my weekend commitments come with obligation at this point, so it should work out happily in the end.
My conversations with classmates are benefitting as we all get more comfortable in our “target” languages and are feeling like we can talk about real things, and not just what we are doing today or which state or province we were born in. That is really cool. Hmm. I’m having trouble saying something both meaningful and Chinese-internet-appropriate about them, though. I’ll report back when I can articulate myself.
To complete your snapshot of my life: other than the above, I spend time just about every day talkin’ to a cool dude in South Korea, some more time wishin’ I was in South Korea with him, a fair amount of time reading, a lot of time twirling my hair and staring out of windows, and am happy almost all of the time.
All’s well in Nanjing, friends.

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