To get to the other side?

I know it's been a long time, and for that I apologize. Part of it is that I seem to have less and less time, but really it's the fact that my computer got fixed. And then it broke again for good. Now it's just a shiny, rather expensive paper weight. I'm just posting as many random pictures as I can. Have fun.

And now I find myself with so much to write that I have nothing to say.





Almost two weeks ago I celebrated my 21st birthday in Anyang. It was wonderful. I celebrated by eating with my friends for four days. Actually, the only thing that made the dinners any different was the fact that we said it was my birthday and used that as an excuse to eat more. Some people celebrate turning 21 by drinking themselves sick; I celebrated by eating myself sick.

I'll spare you the details, but the culinary highlights inclyded pigeon with the head still attached, donkey, and a Thai-style dessert that Annetta made for me.




A lot of you must think I have problems, given my preoccupation for all things edible. The other day, I called my parents on the phone for the first time since I arrived in Beijing. I told them that I love China because people sell pineapple on every street corner.

"ellis, now that you're 21, there's something I need to tell you," my dad said. Perchance we own a pineapple farm in Costa Rica. Or maybe I'm adopted, or he's a mob boss or a CIA agent. That would be cool.

"Not everything in life revolves around food."

Wait--what? Why not? Without food, life would be like a pie crust without the filling-- dry and lacking a definite flavor (or ready to crumble at any moment). What's wrong with falling in love with a country via its cuisine? The only bad meal I've had in China has been "Greek" food. Maybe the MSG works like a date rape drug, I don't know, but with every meal I'm growing more attached to China. I have a fruit lady, a pineapple guy, and a growing list of restaurants that I've gone to repeatedly. If theres a better way to understand a country than through it's food, I don't know what it is.

Maybe life in America doesn't revolve around food, at least, not for most people, but in China it does. One of the things I love about walking down the street here is the way it sounds and smells. It's an intense mix of pineapple, sausages, yams, meat skewers, smells tofu, socks, shirts, and bags. Some people complain about the smell of China. Overall, America doesn't really smell. But China does-- like feet, like food, like bathroom. It smells lived in, and it smells like people take pleasure in what they eat. That's my kind of culture.

Tomorrow early morning, I am going to Tibet. I'm not done packing, it's late, and we're getting up early, and I think I'm getting a cold. But excited does not describe how I'm feeling. I can only describe it in adjectives that don't usually describe feelings. The way I feel is the way I imagine Lhasa to be; I can't wait to see if I'm right.

Sunday I was sitting in the park writing my miderm essay. The weather was too good to spend inside; I haven't felt sun like that for awhile. A guy sat on the bench next to me. We passed a few minutes in silence as I continued to write about equality between men and women.



"Ni hao. Is this your Chinese name, Fu WenLi?" He pointed to my name at the top of my essay.



And then we started talking about Chinese language, culture, sexual equality, and housing in Beijing (he's a realtor). He corrected my essay, wrote out a paragraph for me (which Tianqi said was a little strange) and we exchanged cell phone numbers, as he promised to take us out for dinner and introduce us to some Chinese friends.





I don't know why he started talking to me. Most people prefer to stare, so it's nice to know that there are people out there who are willing to interact with the strange waiguo ren sitting on the bench.



I should have something more concrete to say after Tibet. Maybe I'll find some internet there and let you know what it's like.





I think it will be blue.



I've been trying to think of a punch line for this joke:
Why did the waiguo ren cross the road?

Any thoughts?