Excitable Boy

There's a body of research on what happens to travelers as they experience culture shock, and like mourning, it's divided into several clear phases. The first is euphoria, followed by frustration or depression, then gradual adjustment, then bi-culturalism, feeling at home in this place. I am still pretty solidly in the first phase, and if you read on, I think it will be pretty  clear I ought to be.

My flight was late, and spent a little extra time hanging out on the tarmac after we landed, so I missed the group transport to campus, and instead finangled a bus ticket, in Chinese, to take me within half a mile, then took a brisk evening walk with one hundred pounds of baggage. Awesome. I missed the group meal, but fortunately a couple guys drinking 20 cent beer in their room were kind enough to invite me in for a liquid dinner. They had just completed one month of teaching english in Yunan, and are in the same program I am. The night passed easily. In fact, just about everyone in this program is good company of various types.

Classes start in two days, we got our first homework tonight. That should give you some idea of the rigor of the program. Tough, but at least my Chinese should improve meteorically. The professors seem, without exception, phenomenal - calmly and unquestionably experts in their fields. Am also planning to do extracurricular classes in martial arts and chinese cooking, plus weekend trips to include the Great Wall and three days in the backcountry, sleeping with local families and hiking the mountains. Pretty optimistic about maintaining this euphoria for a little while. We visited a rebuilt Hutong this afternoon, and although the main road was converted into a tourist shopping strip, there were some pretty impressive old homes down the side streets, including that of the wife of the last Qing emperor. Kind of cool for an afternoon walk.

Before I start classes though, I have this weekend to get through. In what is quickly becoming my favorite tradition, I was dragged from bed on my birthday by pounding on my door, and after swapping my favorite silk pajamas for basketball shorts and a shirt, a dozen of us went out to the best little bar in Beijing. 3 RMB (40 cents) for a glass of beer on tap. Street food for pennies on the way back. Good preperation for tonight.

I realize I'm gushing, but I'm still pretty enamored with this behemoth of a city. And if anyone wants to follow my account, I'll try and update about once every other week, but probably more often at first while I'm in awe of Beijing, and convinced anyone's dying to hear about it.

Peace,
Tom