Time Hump Chronicles, Part 3

So.
It is 7am on the morning of Sunday the 16, and I have been in the US for about 36 hours. The ease I was blessed with on the way out in terms of jet lag and food adjustment doesn't seem to be reciprocal coming back to America, so this is the first chance I've had to write while not wandering around my house like a 50's housewife trying antipsychotics for the first time.

I flew out of Hong Kong at 10am on Friday, the 14, and arrived in Newark at 3pm on Friday the 14, after a 15 hour flight. My brain is still working on accepting that one.

After hanging around in the Newark airport for a few hours and chugging some American Starbucks (they don't have the Flat White option in Asia), I boarded my flight for Boston and sat in the wrong seat 3 times before a flight attendant kindly pointed out to me that I was looking at my ticket for the previous flight.

But eventually, I made it home! Since the bulk of my flight from HJ to Newark was during the "day" for my body, and then it was the actual day time for the US, I didn't really get any sleep on the way over. So by the time I made it to Boston, I'd been awake for about 24 hours. But thanks to caffeine, indian food, and my friend Laura, I managed to stay awake until about 11 AND take a shower before passing out in my beautiful, very own bed.

The next day I woke up at 8, which is pretty damn good considering it's a 12 hour time difference, and had waffles while dealing with the realization that I'd forgotten how our television worked. I even made it to the gym for a little bit before realizing that I didn't actually have enough energy yet for a full workout, then I saw a few friends, and fell asleep around 7.

This meant that I woke up at 4am, but at least I feel like a person again. And I got to see the American sunrise, which was an added bonus.

Word of advice for anyone coming back into the US in terms of food adjustment: You don't realize how much artificial crap there is in the American diet until you've been effectively cleansing your body in another country for a while. I thought dairy was going to be the big issue for me, considering that it pretty much doesn't exist in the southern Chinese diet, but  it's actually been American bread products that have given me some problems. But it's a blessing in disguise because now I can focus on eating as naturally as possible, which is healthier anyway.

And with that, I close this chapter.

What I Actually Did in Mainland China

When I first came to Guangzhou, it was at the tail end of a whirlwind month in Hong Kong. Towards the end, I didn’t have any days off or time to mentally prepare for traveling to what may not have been a new country, but was definitely a different culture. So I arrived in Guangzhou on a Saturday night, after running around Hong Kong all day in an “Amazing Race” type bonding activity with the other interns. Arriving with no preparations, no expectations, and no local currency, I half-heartedly threw a prayer out into the universe that a city I’d never given anything to would embrace me anyway.

And it did.

Everyone I met and worked with in Guangzhou had an incredible strength and generosity of spirit. A lot of that comes from the fact that Chinese culture is much more about checking in with your neighbor and social responsibility than western culture, and also that the people in Guangzhou seem to take a greater satisfaction in their day to day lives. This is not to say that they are at all blind or ignorant to societal issues, or any problems they may have with the government, but it seems to me that they choose to devote their time to improving the quality of life in their community, rather than constantly complaining about larger scale issues. But they far from complacent. They just focus their immediate efforts on the things they can change, and don’t get neurotic about the things that will take a little more time.

Imagine if Americans weren’t constantly dissatisfied!

That Monday, I met the 30 campers who would be my window to the eastern world for the next 10 days. They were all between the ages of 6 and 10, and, knowing very little English, understandably preferred to speak Chinese. In Hong Kong all the children’s programs I’d worked with were conducted in English, with one of the goals being to improve the kids’ language skills. However, this camp was about character education, and teaching a 6 year old about this stuff was hard enough without throwing a foreign language into the mix.

Now, what exactly is taught in a YMCA character building camp, you ask? Honesty, Caring, Respect, and Responsibility, the 4 words that all American YMCA employees memorize before their initial interview and then forget about until they see them on large banners in the gym or aquatics centers. In Asia, they actually market every one of their projects and courses as pertaining to one or more of those values.

This isn’t to say that American YMCA summer camps are full of a bunch of heathens, but sometimes we get a little bit lazy in summarizing to the kids why we’re doing so much team building, or doing a charity event, or practicing critical thinking through games.

Being a camp counselor in Asia is not the same job as being a camp counselor in America. The expectations are completely different. In America, a counselor’s job is basically to ferry the kids around from one activity to the next, play games during free time, and to make sure the kids come home from camp in one piece every day. In Asia, a counselor takes on the role of programs coordinator and teacher, both designing and implementing the lessons and activities. It’s a lot more responsibility than I was expecting, but it also came with a great deal of freedom and possibility.

The first few days were tough, as everyone was figuring out what my role in the camp could and couldn’t be. Not speaking the language made it very difficult for me to take a leadership role in the activities, but I could certainly contribute by designing them. After a few days, the kids shocked me by starting to communicate with me, knowing full well that I knew even less Chinese than they knew English. The older ones used hand gestures, drawings, and miming to get their point across, while the younger ones would run up to me, say something in Chinese, smile, and run away again. It was amazing, and it made me kick myself for not trying as hard as they were to communicate from the beginning. One very little girl named Alice took it upon herself to teach me some Mandarin, and by the end of my 10 days I had a group of 5 teachers and a very long list of new words.

I’ve only just begun to process my time in Guangzhou, but I do know that I felt life experiences happening to me every day, even if I couldn’t define them. The culture in mainland China is beautiful, and the kids are curious, keen, and kind. Had I not been so excited to return home and see all my friends and family before going back to school, leaving Guangzhou would have been truly heartbreaking. 

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Chinese Internet Censorship

When I first got here, I was really confused but super thrilled that my phone could still connect, albeit incredibly slowly, to Facebook, Snapchat, google, etc. At the time, I was using my American SIM card and my teeny tiny international data plan. It appears that combination of the American iPhone with a non-restricted SIM card creates a sort of invisibility cloak from the Chinese government. But then I ran out of data (WAY too expensive) and had to get a Guangzhou SIM card and now I no longer have access to the following:

-Facebook
-Twitter
-Snapchat
-Searching through Safari (Yahoo is ok)
-Google/ Google Chrome
-My Blog
-Google Maps
-Instagram
-Youtube            
-And, for reasons I will never understand, Myslice. (The Syracuse University enrollment site)

So, if you’re traveling to mainland China and want to have access to these things, you’d better be prepared to pay about $50 per day, because that’s how insanely expensive American international data plans are.

Note: Hypothetically, you should be able to get a SIM card in a city like HK that will also work in mainland China (and hopefully bring some free internet with it), but it didn’t work for my phone, which is why I had to switch to my American card, and ultimately the Guangzhou card.

I was told that I wouldn’t be able to look some things up on the internet, but I just used Internet Explorer (ugh) to find the Wikipedia page about the Cultural Revolution and had no issues.

So, the lack of social media is incredibly and increasingly tough with each passing day, especially because all the notifications still come through, you just can’t follow them. I guess this is the real test of whether or not I can handle being cut off from Facebook, Instagram, et al…but it’s only for one more week.

The youth of China have a different solution. They’ve all figured out how to access these sites via VPN, so most of them are effectively working with unrestricted internet. And so far, it appears that the government doesn’t really care enough to do much about it.

Oh, and one last note: Although the restrictions are frustrating, there are a ton of movie streaming sites here that aren’t blocked at all J

The Jesus Cracker

Those who know me well know that religion (specifically, Christianity) is not exactly my forte. Growing up in a Unitarian Universalist church, I learned what I think are a wonderful set of values, and was able to develop my own moral and spiritual compass in a supportive, educational environment. However, our lack of intense focus on any religious text (i.e. the Bible) led to an innumerable amount of confusing moments, especially in regards to literary references and attending my friends’ churches for special occasions. Suffice it to say that I called the communion wafer a “Jesus Cracker” until some kind soul explained to me that this was not so.

So, when I told everyone about my internship with the YMCA, the first or second question everyone had was “But…you’re not religious?” First off, although I define myself as spiritual, this does not necessarily imply a lack of religion, (go google some UU forums if you want to educate yourself on this) and secondly…It’s the YMCA, more people at my gym are Jewish than not.

Both of these thoughts have recently undergone some reconstruction.

I think I’ve already mentioned that, in America, the YMCA is just called “the Y” in order to take the Christianity component out of the organization to make it more inclusive and attractive to a diverse community. It doesn’t really work like that anywhere else in the world, partially because YMCA’s are only exclusively fitness centers in America. In Germany, for example, it’s all about community building and family centers, so it’s not really a surprise that this type of environment lends itself well to being religious. I know it’s sort of difficult to wrap your head around, but the YMCA does a great deal of social work everywhere else in the world, and the Christianity component is an important aspect in uniting all of their programs, and standardizing their values to the community.

However, In Hong Kong, during one general monthly meeting they hosted a prayer session before it started. There was some singing, a little bit of a sermon, that was it. Religion didn’t really stretch into any of the programs I was dealing with, as Hong Kong is a fairly liberal and diverse city. My boss’ boss took pride in telling me that my boss was not, in fact a Christian, and that they hire their staff on the basis of their work, not their beliefs.

When I got here to Guangzhou, in mainland China, I was given a third example of how religion relates to the community, and to the YMCA. Christianity in Asia today belongs to the youth, not the older population. Many people know that in the late 1960’s, Chairman Mao launched his cultural revolution which, among other things, almost completely destroyed all organized religion in China. There have been roughly two generations of people since then. The first, the people around the same age as my parents, most likely grew up with little to no religion in their lives. Their children, however, tend to see this lack of religion as “old fashioned”, and look at Christianity the same way liberal American youths look at marriage equality; An opportunity to move their nation forward.

Yes, I just equated devout Christians and gay rights activists and neither you nor I are sure how we feel about it yet. (To the devout Christians who support gay rights, I apologize, and rock on)

I predict that the Chinese YMCA will become more religious within the next 20 years, as the younger population grows into leadership positions. 

No matter what country you live in, it’s clear that the youth are the revolutionary factor. What’s absolutely fascinating to me is how their missions and means can be so, so different around the world.

10 Days, and The Stuff That Happened During Them

At the end of last week, we received our final new intern, Paulina from Germany. The locals say that we look like sisters, which could be true except for the fact that Paulina is wise beyond her years, and certainly more mature than I was at her age! I’m going to tell myself that it’s probably a cultural thing. Paulina flew in on Saturday morning and by that night was eating Hot Pot with me, some other interns, and our boss. No time is wasted around here! (Hot Pot= Melting Pot but healthier and affordable.) She also speaks Mandarin. The Germans really know what’s up around here.

The next day we went to Ocean Park, aka the land of dreams and pandas. There were penguins, monkeys, shark eggs, roller coasters, food, and a very interesting game of international Apples to Apples. You also have to take a cable car to get from the animal exhibits to the theme park…which was terrifying but magnificent, and left Chris and the other Germans 2-2 for talking me through my irrational fear of slow moving high flying transport.

The next day was the long awaited Cultural Sharing day. Each country got a table and a small budget and a bunch of local kids to entertain. Team America went for temporary tattoos and mini American flags, which turned out to be a hit. That night, each country cooked a dish (Mac & Cheese and S’mores because, let’s be honest, we couldn’t make the American diet look any worse than it already does.) and we had a lovely international dinner.

Then the work week started again and I was back in the Kornhill Centre, writing blog posts about the Umbrella Revolution while I was supposed to be making a slideshow of my time in HK. My last day at the center I got to talk to some local high school students about their day to day lives, and Connie and I took one last picture outside the office.

This brings us to last weekend, my last weekend in Hong Kong. There was one major thing left on my bucket list; The Peak. Hong Kong is built on a hill/mountain (Once again, not all that dissimilar to Syracuse), and the Peak is exactly what it sounds like: the highest point in the city. The views are spectacular. But before I got there, Brian, Chris and I had a lovely dinner at the British YMCA, where the biggest draw for all three of us was the western style salad bar. Vegetables do not come in salad form in this country. They come in soup form. That night, raw lettuce would have excited me more than winning the lottery.

After dinner, Chris and I went to the Peak. In order to get up there, you take this tram that goes up the hill at an impossibly steep angle. Luckily, we got seats and could live vicariously through the poor souls who thought they’d try to ride standing up. Half way though they were basically lying on the floor of the tram. We made it to the top, and got some gorgeous night time views of the city. As an added bonus, the increased altitude lowered the temperature enough that I was able to have a brief respite from drowning in my own sweat.

The next day I devoted to digging up some information about my Grandfather’s teaching work with the YMCA. I ended up right back where I started on one of the first days of my internship; In the General Secretary’s office. It took some time and a couple phone calls, but soon enough I was handed a file from 1968, the contents of which were written almost exclusively by my Grandfather. I learned that the previous secretary of the Chinese YMCA in Hong Kong was one of my Grandfather’s students, and when I go back to HK on the 12, I’ll have a meeting with one of my Grandfather’s friends who still lives in Hong Kong.

My final day in Hong Kong was spent touring the city with a small group of interns, armed with our instructions for the “City Hunt”. I thought we were getting into some sort of Amazing Race type deal, but it turned out not to be a competition at all, so it was a pretty relaxing (incredibly hot) day. And at the end of the day I packed my bags and headed to Guangzhou!

The train ride was uneventful, and getting through border patrol even less so. For the record, Chinese border patrol (at least in GZ, which, to be fair is barely outside of HK) is much, MUCH more lax than people led me to believe, and certainly less stressful than in the US. They’ve designed their train station to be “barrier less”, so there are no scary walls, rooms, partitions, etc. Just a big empty room and desks with guards behind them who encourage you to rate their service by pressing one of four smiley to sad face buttons located on a console in front of their desks. I was through in 20 seconds.

I’ll talk more about my expectations vs. reality in mainland China, but suffice it to say that it is certainly not like stepping into an iron box, at least not in the southern part of the country.

Today I was Lucky

Once again I’m behind on these posts (and I can’t even blame Chinese censorship since I’ve been able to access everything via my phone thus far). Anyway…

Two weeks ago I finished up my last week of classes. During the last session of our last class on Friday, I found myself alone with all the kids while I was trying to prep the next activity. To keep them occupied, I gave them a ball and told them whoever caught it had to tell the class what they wanted to be when they grew up. As I was sorting cards into piles for the next game I passively listened to their responses: Accountant, Businessman, Soccer Player, Professional Youtuber (that one did catch my attention), Scientist….*silence*. I looked up, and saw the ball in the hands of an adorable, talkative, well behaved 11 year old girl named Alisa. She just stood there, smiling, like she always did, except that normally the smile was accompanied by a story or a never ending stream of laughter. In this moment, she was silent, a smile plastered on her face while her classmates prompted her to speak.

I asked Alisa if she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up, and she nodded. I asked if she would tell us, and she said no. At this point I had a suspicion of where this was going, and I asked her if the reason she wouldn’t tell us was because she thought her idea was silly. She responded “It’s unrealistic, it’s just a dream”.

And thus Alisa’s fate was sealed as fodder for my favorite teaching moment of the entire program. Alisa whispered her aspirations to one of our teaching assistants, who confirmed what I’d already guessed; Alisa wanted to be a Singer and an Actor.

When the class finally quieted down, I asked them what they thought I went to school for. Not to anyone’s surprise, they all said “Teacher”. When I told them I went to school for Theatre, Alisa’s jaw literally dropped while the rest of the class went silent.

I won’t bore you with the specifics of the improvised life sermon that came after, but suffice it to say that when I was done, I think I believed my final point even more than the kids: What you choose to study in school does not matter. What matters are your life experiences, and the skills you gain along the way.

Later that day I ran into Alisa on the train. She asked me what I’d done at her age to get involved in theater. I told her I’d just done community shows wherever I could, and that at the time all I knew was that I loved what I was doing and didn’t want to stop. She asked what to do in order to make her dream a reality. I told her to be smart, smarter than everyone else. I told her that everything she was learning in school would help her to become an artist, even math. She looked at me like I was an alien. I told her that artists are some of the smartest people in our society, because they never stop learning. She looked at me and nodded.

Then she took a red yoyo out of her backpack and we stood in silence the rest of the trip, watching the plastic circle go up and down, up and down.

When the Rain Comes, Better Have a Yellow Umbrella

If I were to teach a global citizenship program in the US to American kids, I would focus on the themes of Global Governance and Culture.

In America, we have a very skewed sense of values. What I mean by this isn’t that Americans are simply ungrateful or materialistic (Although this is an issue that first world countries generally struggle with, and America is no exception). What I mean is that we take for granted the aspects of our country we should be the most grateful for. The rights to freedom of speech, assembly, expression, and critical thinking about the government are the most valuable rights an American has. Ironically, because we constantly exercise our freedom to criticize the leadership of our country, we seldom take the time to appreciate that we have the right to voice our (unsatisfied) opinion in the first place.

When I first came to Hong Kong, and met the other Asian international interns, something very strange started to happen; They actually seemed to admire America. America, land of the free and home of the brave unless you’re black, poor, or otherwise marginalized or disadvantaged. How could a country that headlines a racism scandal or an obvious miscarriage of justice in law enforcement every other week POSSIBLY be viewed as generally positive from half way around the world?

I’m not saying that America’s issues aren’t condemning, urgent, or imperative. But I am saying that when this part of the world looks across the ocean towards the Statue of Liberty, they do see freedom. And after living in Hong Kong for a month, I’m still only beginning to scratch the surface in terms of figuring out why.

The first thing I had to understand was that Hong Kong has an entirely different identity than mainland China, and the locals here are vehement in maintaining that identity as an entirely separate entity. Since control of Hong Kong was given back to the Chinese government from Britain in 1997, the Hong Kongers have noticed the walls starting to close in on some of the freedoms they enjoyed as a British colony. Let me pause here to say that I’m not trying to pass judgment on British colonialism or the pros/cons of HK being under Chinese or British control, I’m just relaying what I’ve been told by my co-workers who grew up here.

Similar to our Senate, China elects representatives from each province to serve in the government. Keyword: China. For Hong Kong, this means that the local people have no real say in who represents them. Walking around HK, I’ve routinely seen posters of their representatives with their eyes blacked out, or big X’s spray painted over their faces. I’ve also seen the Umbrella Revolution protests, where young-middle aged adults occupy popular areas and peacefully voice their grievances while holding bright yellow umbrellas. I’ve also been told not to get too close or watch for too long, or I could be arrested along with them.

Technically speaking, Hong Kong has freedom of speech, press, and the right to assembly, but everything goes grey once the mainland government gets involved. For example, protesters can be arrested by the HK police force (which many argue is more in the hands of Beijing than the local government), but they cannot be prosecuted, since Hong Kong has a separate legal system to Mainland China. 

Hong Kong and America are not all that dissimilar in terms of revolutionary spirit; You just have to look a little harder in order to see it. Where we would charge towards a human rights violation wielding burning torches, axes, and a gilded copy of the Constitution, the Hong Kongers would find a more subtle way to voice their opinion and push back against the governing body. It’s a very precarious battle the Hong Kong people are fighting, and one that they have to fight with quiet tenacity and an extreme prescience of the possible ramifications of their actions. Change here comes slowly, and ground is gained millimeters at a time, but change does come.

Shit

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before now, but since I got here, I’ve been the only intern not to have a roommate. Which was great for a lot of reasons, but was starting to get just a little bit lonely. Which is why I was SO excited for the arrival of the Australians, one of whom is my new roommate, Chrissy. Now that she’s here, I’m no longer the only western woman in the program. As nice as a fully immersive cultural experience is, sometimes you really just need to sit down with someone and talk about Ed Sheeran and Western television.

Chrissy and Guy arrived with tons of fuzzy koala toys and little gold pins from their YMCA (two of which are now in my possession), and brought a whole new culture to the table.

This is my final week of teaching at the YMCA College, and next week I’ll be going back to one of the family centers for the remainder of my time here. I’m pretty excited about life, but the weather vehemently disagrees. It’s been raining here non-stop all week. I now realize that the ultra-hot, sunny weather I’ve been complaining about was sheer luck, and this awful gray rain (Hello, SU) is, unfortunately, the norm for the summer. But I have hope that it will clear up this weekend.

Yesterday I had western style Spaghetti Bolognese for lunch. This is significant because it’s the first time I’ve had a meal sized dose of gluten since arriving here. I don’t have any sort of gluten issue, but eating the local food and thereby going without it for the past couple of weeks has really given me a new perspective. For one thing, I realize that gluten makes me tired, bloated, thirsty, and more liable to eat more gluten later. For another, eating the pasta and meat sauce felt like the richest, creamiest, heaviest food in the world after eating brothy soups and rice dumplings.

It’s so much easier to cut out processed food here than in the states. Just by eating locally, you really can’t help but eat fairly naturally as well. For example, most nights for dinner I go to the local market and get vegetables in broth, a rice dumpling with a simple meat filling, and maybe a sweet potato roll or bread bun if I’m craving something carb-y. But even the bread here is lighter, steamed, and more natural.

My only major issue with the food here is that all the desserts are gelatinous. If it can’t be steamed, frozen, or set, usually you can’t find it. At this point, I’d give just about anything for flourless chocolate cake, but hey, un-availability of heavy desserts isn’t exactly cause for alarm. Yet.

I did have this awesome steamed coconut the other day; they take the milk and turn it into this awesome pudding. And you eat it out of the coconut.

Alright, one last topic for this post: Toilet paper.

Let me explain.

More and more I’ve been noticing a recurring trend in the bathrooms I’ve come across here in Hong Kong. There are no toilet paper dispensers inside the individual stalls. Instead, there’s one big dispenser outside the stalls for the whole bathroom. I’ll leave it to you to figure out the consequence of not being aware of this situation.

Rather than argue about why this is inherently awful, I’d just like all of your prayers that I will, someday soon, adapt.

Totally Worth the Sleep Deprivation

The concert kicked off a crazy weekend of sightseeing and levity. On Friday night I got to experience the Western bar/club area of the city, Lan Kwai Fong.

Now here’s the thing about me and Feminism..I don’t begrudge anyone, regardless of gender or sexual orientation, the right to be offended (or not offended, that’s also a legitimate decision) by anyone’s actions, but I thoroughly enjoyed not having to pay cover charges at any of the bars we went to. I’m not sure whether or not this custom offends any of the local women, but as a foreigner I didn’t feel pressured in any way to drink more, or to constantly talk to the men. In fact, unless I initiated a conversation, I was more or less left alone to have fun with my friend. America could definitely take a card or two from the Hong Kongers.

Lan Kwai Fong is this little corner of the city built on the side of a mountain (not altogether unlike Syracuse), and is made up of a network of stairs and escalators. It’s really pretty amazing. It’s full of bars, Hookah lounges, clubs, cafés, shops, most of the Western population, and tons and tons of local 20-somethings. A lot of the smaller bars are open to the street and play loud reggae or American music while everyone dances in the streets. It’s young, energetic, and freer from awkward sexual implication than American party culture could ever hope to be.

People in HK stay out LATE. We left the bars at around 4am, and there were still huge crowds of people everywhere. I went to bed as the sun rose, and regretted nothing except my lack of pictures from the night.

The next day was reserved for sleeping.

Sunday, a group of us went to the Big Buddha, this giant (stone?) statue on Lantau Island. In order to get there, you have to take the subway all the way to the end of the line, and then take a cable car (yeah, a CABLE CAR) to the island. It’s absolutely breathtaking riding across the water and through the mountains to the little tourist village of Ngong Ping.

We ate lunch at a Buddhist temple (what they can do with meat substitutes is the stuff of legends and epic poetry), and then went to say hello to our giant stone friend. After climbing about a million steps (SU people think Crouse but like x 3 and a million degrees and the entire population of Newhouse on the stairs), we got to the Big Buddha, and the museum and gift shops that sat under its base. Lots of photo ops, lots of majestic views, lots of inner peace.

Then we had to climb back down.

Every Punch Line is in Cantonese

So, remember a few posts back I mentioned this really cool opportunity I received that was wreaking havoc on my internship schedule? That opportunity was to host this awesome Jazz A Cappella/Choral concert the CYMCA (Chinese YMCA) was producing with a group called the Oxford Gargoyles, who made the trip from the UK to sing for 500-ish people last Friday night in a beautiful music hall at Hong Kong University.

The other American intern and I were to MC the concert in both English and Cantonese (as an “ABC” (American Born Chinese), he speaks fluent Cantonese). They wanted bits and jokes as well…bilingual bits and jokes. Comedy on stage is like a fragile little fairy creature to begin with, but when you’re working in two languages (and only one of you understands both), it’s more like a football player with Osteogenesis Imperfecta. 

So we’d speak back and forth, setting up the joke, me in English and Brian in Cantonese, and we’d have to rehearse it over and over again because I had no choice but to memorize the exact timing and wording. But somehow we made it work (even though to this day I don’t know why any of the jokes were funny).

The concert was received very well, and even the General Secretary of the entire Chinese YMCA said he was very impressed.

But the most awesome part of the whole thing was actually the part I’d anticipated being the most painful: The Gargoyles arrived in HK a few days early to lead a 3 day workshop with local kids, who would perform the songs they’d learned in the concert. Hong Kong kids are ultimately superior in musicianship to American kids. Sorry, but it’s very, very true.

I think it has something to do with Chinese and especially Cantonese being tonal languages; since a child has to recognize that the same word or sound can have several different meanings based on pitch and inflection, I think their ears are automatically more tuned to melodies. These kids learned an incredible amount of (fairly challenging) music, and performed it on pitch, and with (well executed) harmonies.

On that note, I leave you.

I’m So Not Qualified for This (I can't believe you trust me with your children)

I have two major jobs here at the Chinese YMCA of Hong Kong. One is to help in a family center with things like program management and making their branch more attractive and accessible to international patrons and interns. The other is to teach English at one of the YMCA’s Colleges (High School-ish).

Let me pause here to highlight another major difference between the Y here and in America: THEY HAVE (MANY) FULLY FUNCTIONAL PUBLIC SCHOOLS. Good schools. English immersion schools. You can see where I’m going with this, yes?

Most of the schools here run summer sessions for kids to work on their English, Math, or Sciences (And by the way their vacation is only from Mid-July through September 1). The kids I’m teaching are planning to enter the College in the fall, and are taking this English course as a sort of jump start. It also helps the school year faculty see how advanced their English is so they can be placed accordingly come September.

I teach with 3 other interns; The other American, a Taiwanese boy, and a Singaporean girl. The school also gave us two assistant teachers who are godsends, as they speak both fluent Cantonese and English. Our kids are between 10-13 years old, and we teach 3 sections a day for 1.5 hours each.

We’ve chosen to base each of our 3 units around an animated movie that features a foreign culture (one of the school’s goals in addition to the kids learning English is for them to learn about other non-English speaking foreign cultures). So we picked Big Hero 6, The Lion King, and The King & I. We’re currently in our second session of classes, and we’ve already seen how all the units play out, so here’s a general recap:

Day 1: Big Hero 6. We meet the new kids and play ice breakers, then watch a section of the movie. Then we go over some vocab from the movie, and learn about the setting. THEN we make candy sushi. That’s my job. It’s great.

Day 2: Same concept, but The Lion King. The kids get a Tanzanian mango drink and chocolate covered bananas (supposed to be plantain, but hey, either way they think it’s strange and exotic and sort of gross).

Day 3: The King & I. This is where it gets interesting. The goal is to teach the kids about Imperialism, so we play a game in which we give one team an unfair advantage over another, then debrief with the kids about it before applying the same concept to real world politics. When asked if it’s “fair” for one country to take over a less powerful country under any circumstance, there was usually a fair mix of yes and no, which we were surprised and mildly concerned about until we asked the kids who said “yes” to explain their answers. Some said the more powerful country could bring peace to the other country. Some said social health could be improved. Some said they'd read a lot of media articles saying that it was politically necessary.

Some kids has obviously never considered the concept of Imperialism before, and sat silently in their chairs while their world got a little smaller, and a whole lot more complicated.

This is my favorite day because we get to see how the kids react to new ideas and philosophy concerning the human condition. The “I understand” look has a lot of different variations, but each one is infinitely more satisfying than the last. So, in conclusion, teaching is awesome, the kids are adorable, smart, and curious, and I get to eat a lot of chocolate and candy sushi. I have very little to complain about.

Don't Lie, You Wanted the Shoes.

During Orientation they gave us this little booklet that contains a section entitled “Culture Shock and its Phases". I didn’t know it was a thing either.

Phase 1: Honeymoon Phase, when you’re like woah omg lights people food no sleep jet lag drunk dehydrated it’s so hot Jesus Christ people are staring at me and I’m not sure yet if it’s a positive or a negative thing but it’s all ok cause I’m surviving in a new culture YAY!

Phase 2: Crisis Phase. I want spaghetti. I want to drink the tap water. I’m sick of hearing tonal languages I don’t understand. Why the fuck are people staring at me. Italy would’ve been better. Shit, I’m going to get my period while I’m here. WHY ARE PEOPLE STARING AT ME. “Tend to be annoying as well as annoyed by others”

Phase 3: Recovery Phase. I’ve bought a pillow I can sleep on. I found mac & cheese. I’ve now learned how to say “thank you” and “I’m sorry”, so people no longer think I’ve been raised in a barn. I bought some culturally appropriate clothes. I’m starting to like the clothes, even though everything is glittery, which is fine because although my fashion sense is regressing back towards Limited Too and I feel like my mother, I get complimented by the locals on said glittery clothing (and shoes).

Phase 4: Adjustment Phase. The lady in the local market knows me and my dinner order. I’ve bought some books. I’m confidently using the 3 words in my Cantonese vocabulary. I’m able to tune out the foreign languages I don’t understand, rather than hear them as frustrating melodies. I can give the new interns directions in the city. I’ve memorized the subway lines.

Great. So in stage 3 I mentioned clothing. Let’s talk about that.

Although Hong Kong is an international metropolitan city, and is generally considered the liberal second cousin to mainland China, the fashion sensibilities are significantly more conservative than in the states, to an extent most people in America would find ridiculous, considering the weather here.

What I mean by this is that it is generally not considered appropriate to wear shorts or shoulder bearing tops unless one is going out to bars, or to the beach. Sure, you can do it if you want, and you’ll always find a few other local 20-somethings in essentially the same outfit as you, but the difference is that you already stand out as “other”, and if someone has to pick who to glare at between the two of you, it will almost always be you.

Most women in the workplace choose to wear pant suits, dresses, and sometimes even heels. I have no idea how they do this, considering the average temperature is between 85-95, with 98% humidity and a “real feel” of no less than 101. Sweating is just a reality here that you have to accept in order to survive. Most of the locals have these little portable fans that they bring around with them. I’m pretty sure my purchasing one pushed me over the line from phase 3 to phase 4.

When I first realized that virtually none of the clothes I’d brought were completely non-offensive, I laughed it off and got excited about the prospect of going shopping. A few days later I was righteously angry. Why should these people dictate what I can and can’t put on my body? I don’t “belong” to them, after all. I’m not “damaging” the reputation of their culture.

Once I stopped being an asshole and remembered that I am a guest in this country, I got excited again about buying clothes. There was actually something incredibly soothing about going into a local store and seeing that I didn’t look so bad. I’ve actually grown quite fond of the casual office wear style here: Most of what I have are short drapey tunic like dresses with these really cool pant/leggings underneath. And here’s the other thing: Even skimpy American clothes can’t compare to fabric specifically designed for the heat and humidity in Asia.

Now, the shoes. A few days after I arrived, I realized my white fake Toms (Foms? No? okay.) from Target weren’t going to cut it. You do an incredible amount of walking in Hong Kong, and shoes with actual soles are a must. So I went to the shoe store in the local mall. I’d be lying if I said that EVERYTHING was glittery, but everything that I wanted to wear looked like Dorothy’s slippers puked Technicolor. Now, a pair of silver, sparkly (fake) Toms are mine, and I love them. I guess I’m my mother’s daughter after all.

Everything That Happened, Almost Chronologically

I am so far behind on these blog posts. I always mean to write, but our days are so full here, and the 12 hour time difference between here and Boston is a fantastic procrastination tool. I think the time difference is also responsible for lessening my social media addiction; Whenever I do check facebook or snapchat or whatever, it’s usually like 3am at home so there’s not much there. Anyway, I think it’s a good thing.

So, my first official work week started with the Kornhill Centre, in one of the business districts of Hong Kong. The first major difference I noticed between YMCA’s here and in the states is that here the centers are far more family oriented. In the US, the Y is basically a nice gym with some programs for your kids. Here, it’s all about the family unit, and everything is geared towards getting everyone together for a few hours as often as possible.

I spent the week drafting English programs for the kids, meaning I would write lesson plans for different age groups that revolved around English games, movies, etc. I never got to implement any of those programs, however, because I was given this spectacular opportunity which I’ll reveal in my next post J.

On Wednesday I got to sit in on the Chinese YMCA’s monthly meeting, which was awesome, even though it was conducted in Cantonese, so, optimistically, I understood about .05% of what was being said. They started out with a prayer service, which brings me to the second major difference between the YMCA here and at home: The “C”. They are big supporters of the Christian aspect of the YMCA here, not because they are interested in bending the organization towards the missionary mission, but because they find that basic Christian values are incredibly helpful tools in connecting YMCA’s in different countries that may have different languages, goals for the community, and completely different cultures. In this part of the world Christianity is sort of the calling card that connects all of the YMCA’s, but it really doesn’t do much more than that. Although there is a chapel in the camp grounds we’re staying in, I’ve never seen any services. I have, however, heard several excellent bands rehearsing.

Somewhere around Thursday or Friday the rest of the interns arrived, and I moved out of the boys’ dorm and in with all the girls. Our numbers have since grown and now stand as follows: Korea-4, Taiwan-4, China-1, Singapore-1, Germany-3, America-2, Australia-2. We had an orientation that weekend, the highlight of which was learning where the laundry machines were, and that we were going to get meal allowances every day so we could go explore, as opposed to eating inside the camp.

That weekend we all went to one of the beaches in the southern part of the city. A word on the beaches in Hong Kong: You will never be dry. You come sweaty, you swim, you pick up your towel which is slightly damp from the 95% humidity, you sit, and while the water on your skin evaporates you begin to sweat. There is no in between, there is no way out.

Other than that, it was great, and I ate a very pleasant coconut.

There’s also a beach here at Wu Kwai Sha, which is adorable and right next to the camp. It’s very rocky so you have to wear shoes, but the water is always super warm. A lot of families bring their little kids there in the evening to swim and have dinner, and the view of the mountains and the skyline in the distance is gorgeous. There’s also a mystery deistic statue across the bay, but no one knows what it’s supposed to be, since it’s privately owned. I think it looks a little like Jesus, but I’m the only one, which isn’t surprising considering my vast knowledge of organized religion.

And finally, I will close this post with a topic near and dear to my heart: Food. I have located a wonderful food source, right in the plaza across the street from the camp grounds. It’s called a “Wet Market”, and is as close to eating locally as you can get without actually going into the city. It’s in the basement of one of the shopping malls, and is full of fresh, cheap, local food that is absolutely incredible. The only caveat for me is the fact that ordering without speaking the language is occasionally problematic. However, I made fancy scholarly British friends who speak Mandarin (which isn’t the local language here but most of the time it does the trick), and they’re always happy to help.  

Ok, on to the next topics: Culture shock and the Hong Kong dress code.

Time Hump Chronicles, pt 2

So I've been in Hong Kong for 4 days now, and so much has happened that I've been putting off writing about it because at the end of the day I'm completely and utterly exhausted. In my life, I've noticed that sometimes I'll have trouble sleeping if I feel like I haven't done enough during the day, or that nothing has tired me out- That's 110% not an issue here. The overwhelming heat is enough to make a person tired, but once you add to that an incredibly fast paced city with a culture richer than a flourless chocolate cake, you're looking at the best sleep you'll probably ever get in your life.

But enough about sleep. Allow me to recount to you my first few days in this crazy place:

I flew out of San Francisco on Wednesday afternoon, and settled in for a 13 hour flight, scheduled to arrive at 6:35pm on Thursday, HK time. You lose an entire day when traveling to Hong Kong from crossing the international date line. The time difference from Boston is a well rounded 12 hours.

While on the flight, I thought it would be a great idea to try and beat the jet lag by forcing myself to get on HK time right away. Since I took off in the afternoon, California time, that meant taking a nap since it was super early in the morning in China. That sort of worked, except that I missed the one major meal of the flight. Here's the thing about long flights; they always serve the food according to where you're coming from, as opposed to where you're going to. So I "woke up" around 8am HK time, somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, to a gelato dessert from the dinner I didn't eat. But hey, ice cream for breakfast is great. Especially when it's mango flavored. A couple snack boxes and lots of cups of coffee later, we landed in Hong Kong.

My first night in the city was not great. The airport is incredibly efficient, but also incredibly busy, and waiting for the baggage claim took far longer than I was expecting. About an hour after we landed, I finally met my escort to the YMCA camp site where I'd be staying. The second we stepped outside, a wall of wet heat oozed over me and settled down into my soul, where it has remained thus far. We took the bus all the way to a suburb of the city called Ma On Shan, where the Wu Kwai Sha youth village is. (If Hong Kong Island is Staten Island, Ma On Shan is the Bronx). Unfortunately we got a little lost on the way, which wouldn't have been so bad had I not been awake for 26 hours and wearing heels as I lugged my 49 pound suitcase through the tropical heat in the dark. But eventually we made it, and I met my new home for the next 4 weeks.

I unpacked, and promptly passed out on the couch, where my roommate, a lovely German gentleman named Chris, found me and kindly didn't judge me for whining to him for the next 20 minutes about how horrible my night had been. After more apologetic babbling about my poor attitude, I finally went to bed.

The next day was so much better. I embarked on my first foray of the city with one goal: Find the ballet studio I planned to take classes at in my free time. Let me pause here to praise the subway system in Hong Kong; It is cleaner, faster, easier to understand, and more efficient than the systems IN ANY US CITY. So, I arrived at the ballet studio a full 45 minutes before class started. After dancing for two hours, (Classes here are actually 1 hour instead of the typical hour and 20-30 minutes, so most of the ladies at the studio just take two classes back to back) I felt ready to explore the city.

My dad gave me a tourist guide book that has proven incredibly helpful to me, not in the least because it has the Chinese translation of all major locations in case one should get lost. One does get lost in Hong Kong  perpetually, so this is a key tool. My first meal in HK was actually a suggestion from this book; a French restaurant in a college town type area of the city. After that, I wandered around until I found Hong Kong Park; a beautiful little tropical forest complete with fountains, koi ponds, and a huge aviary. So that was awesome.

The next few days were filled with sightseeing and meeting my new boss, a wonderful woman named Connie who was kind enough to take me out to lunch upon meeting me, and spread her good grace far enough to come rescue me from the subway station two days later when I got lost on the way to work. Moral: NEVER leave your phone at home when in a foreign city.

Somewhere along the line another roommate arrived; a boy from California named Brian. He speaks fluent Cantonese, so he's incomprehensibly helpful to have around. We celebrated the fourth of July by wandering around the city; we even stopped by a summer carnival on our way to Kowloon to see the famous light show: Every night some of the tallest, fanciest sky scrapers on Hong Kong Island coordinate their lights to music piped out over the pier and boardwalk. It's pretty cool.

At some point Brian and I realized that Chris had never eaten Mac & Cheese, just one of many American staples that the rest of the world is smart enough to avoid. So we made it our mission to create a suitable substitute. While wandering around the city we found macaroni noodles and 4 cheese Italian sauce...a little fancy, but it would do. It ended up being alright, but it lacked the salty punch of processed powdered cheese that only Kraft can provide. The next day I found the beloved blue boxes in our local grocery store...right next to the dried chinese herbs and preserved meats...go figure. So we'll try that again some time soon.

I've made two visits to a local high school since arriving here; Once as part of an extracurricular English Ambassador program, where native English speakers from the community are brought in to have tea with the kids and practice their English with them. That was incredibly rewarding. I've noticed that these kids seem to have more of a genuine desire to learn...something most American students don't really get until college, if ever. They're endlessly curious about the world outside their own country which may be due in part to the fact that their schools place a much larger value on language learning that American schools do. One 14 year old girl I talked to had basically become fluent in English, so she was starting to learn Spanish, completely by her own choice. These kids are coming out of high school with two, if not three fluent languages. American kids are lucky if they can write a grammatically immaculate paper in their own language by the time they graduate.

The second visit was to judge their end of the year talent show. That was AWESOME. In addition to everything else, these kids are insanely musically talented. They love to sing and dance to American music, and interestingly enough, have better English accents when they sing to American songs than when they speak English. Just one example of how important the arts are in connecting cultures. They also love to dance to K-pop, which, although I know I'll never truly understand, I am beginning to have an appreciation for. Other major topics of interest include Taylor Swift, Starbucks, and Soccer (Football).

Last night, some British (female) interns arrived from another program, so I got to talk to girls, in English, for the first time since being here. That was much more theapiduc than I'd anticipated. Something I didn't realize until coming here was how truly difficult of a language English is, not in the least because most people don't speak it correctly 80% of the time. When talking to a non-native speaker, I constantly find myself adjusting my syntax, which is dumb both because I'm not expressing what I'm saying in the way I'd like, and because non-native speakers are taught a very, very correct English, and hearing a native speaker talk helps them to sort out what's grammatically correct vs what sounds natural.

Today, I'm working at a YMCA family center in the Quarry Bay area of Hong Kong Island. The commute is about an hour but it's worth it to see the amazing views. There's the one section of the trip where the tall industrial buildings against the green hills the city is surrounded by look VERY Hunger Games-ish, especially when seen from a high speed train window. It's really pretty eerie, I'll try to get a picture of it eventually.

Okay. Onwards and upwards! Sorry if anyone thought I was dead, usually I'm better at asserting my existence.

Time Hump Chronicles: Pt 1

You'd think a laptop circa 2013 would be smart enough to self adjust to different time zones. You'd be wrong, but you'd probably think that. Another win for Windows 8.

Today my family and I arrived in San Francisco for a quick visit before I continue on to Hong Kong on Tuesday. We were told we'd have an unusually fast flight (5.5 vs 6+ hours) which my Dad attributed to the jet streams, but since my knowledge of weather patterns doesn't extend beyond my 5th grade project of "El Nino" (Windows...accents...come on. two for you, Glen Coco!) I didn't question it and moved on to the windfall that was my CD drive:

So many more months ago than I care to admit, my friend stupidly lent me his entire Harry Potter DVD collection. One disc stowed away inside my laptop and came with me to college last semester. Upon discovering it, I promptly removed it and put it with my classical show tunes collection, where I knew it wouldn't be disturbed. By the grace of god, when I moved out I remembered I still had this precious disc in my possession, so back it went from whence it came, into my laptop and back to Boston. Apparently its journey ended there.

But all that's totally ok, because today I spent a solid 2 hours with the special features of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It was even more awesome than it sounds. And now it's coming with me to China. Sorry, friend.

There were also some naps, an overpriced snack box, candy I snuck through security, and several high school a cappella recordings I found while going through my iTunes account, which are now in a playlist entitled "Blackmail".

Pride is living and giving in San Francisco. Even the rental car place inside the airport had celebratory rainbow balloons! We usually stay in the city for a night or two, but since my time here is so short, we drove straight to my Aunt and Uncle's house in Santa Rosa. I got some great pictures of the Golden Gate, and as we were driving, the famous fog was just starting to roll in for the evening. When you leave San Francisco, you go through a tunnel with a big rainbow painted on the entrance. I learned today that it's actually called "Waldo Tunnel", not "The-Rainbow-Tunnel-After-Which-the-Temperature-Magically-Increases-By-15+-Degrees". Either way, it seemed especially appropriate today.

We made it to Santa Rosa just in time for an amazing home cooked dinner of salmon, veggies, and my personal favorite, San Francisco sourdough garlic bread. California enables my bread addiction like nothing else.

So far so good in terms of beating the jet lag. Only 9 more hours to go in 3 more days.

~Rodcocker, out

Slip Slap Slop

I know, I know, 

"Lindsay, wtf, you promised me travel pictures and cultured Asian things, why are you talking to me about sunscreen? Go home. Who even are you?"

Who am I? I'm a porcelain doll with a milky white complexion, melanoma free since 1994. And I'm already home. But thanks, bro.

You're right, I did promise you a travel blog, and a travel blog you shall have. Here's the connection, albeit a tenuous one. My Grandma's super excited that I'm going to Hong Kong, but she always likes to weigh in with the same diatribe: "It's very hot there; do you know the signs of heat stroke?" followed by "You must PROMISE me to wear sunscreen and a hat."

Sunscreen. There is is. The bane of pale children and camp counselors alike. As someone who routinely maxes out the pale scale in just about every foundation brand, I feel pretty confident in saying that I have been around the (sun) block a fair few times in terms of UVA and UVB protection.

God, I am so sorry.

The other day one of my co-workers and I were joking about how, as lifeguards, we're the perfect acid test for different brands of sunscreen; If it survives a 6 hour camp day teaching and guarding, it's good enough to apply to your children liberally 2, 3, 12 times a day, whatever eases your conscience sending your kid out into the world with its disintegrating ozone layer. We don't judge your sunscreen choices, even when it clouds up the pool so badly that we have to close. It's ok, we get it. We'll grab some popsicles and chat about heat stroke prevention while we wait the rest of the summer for it to clear up.

Not all effective sunscreen is completely nasty, though. Through the years I've tried and erred, and with several spectacular farmer's tans burned into my sense memory, I'm thrilled to present to you what are, in my humble opinion, the top 7 sunscreen brands out there. 

1. Neutrogena Clear Face 

This stuff is number one on my list because it is the ONLY sunscreen I've ever found that doesn't feel like crisco on my skin AND effectively prevents the break-outs that typically come with high sunscreen usage. It comes in SPF 30 and 55, and I've never gotten burned while wearing it. It feels just like a light moisturizer when you put it on, and doesn't have a super strong sunscreen smell. The only downside is that it's sort of pricey, so I only use it on my face and neck.

2. Neutrogena Wet Skin Sunscreen Spray

This is what I typically use on my body when I know I'm going to be out in the sun for a long time. It's a clear spray that comes in SPF 30, 50, or 85+ (Although I've been told that sunscreen isn't incrementally effective past SPF 45 or 50) As an added bonus, the bottle says it can be applied directly to wet skin, but I've never tried it. The best part about this stuff is the same reason why some people don't like it; it has a very, very strong, sticky presence on your skin. Psychologically it's actually kind of reassuring because you feel super protected, and from a practical standpoint it's a nice thing too because you can physically feel when it's starting to wear off. I usually apply it once during the day if I'm guarding or at the beach, and sometimes reapply it to my shoulders if I feel it starting to wear off. Like any sunscreen, you're supposed to reapply every two hours or after swimming, but usually the stuff sticks to my skin like glue until I shower it off, so I've never felt the need.

3. Neutrogena Ultra Sheer Sunscreen (Dry Touch Sunscreen)

Neutrogena makes a lot of really great sunscreens. This is another one that's light, and great for use on your face, or body if you don't want to feel sticky. The only major differences between this and the Clear Face line are that it doesn't have the anti break-out factor, and it's a little cheaper.

4. Coppertone Sport Spray

Another clear spray, a close second to the Neutrogena spray. This one is great for sports and sweating, comes in a much bigger bottle than the Neutrogena, and is significantly cheaper. If you're swimming you'll have to re-apply it once or twice, but it gets the job done consistently. A little bit of a harsh smell, but you get used to it.

5. Blue Lizard ("Australian Sunscreen")

I don't know if it's actually Australian or not, but this is one of the brands I remember seeing a lot, especially on younger kids, when I was a camp counselor. This sunscreen is without a doubt the stickiest, thickest, greasiest, most disgusting sunscreen I've ever seen. That's probably why moms everywhere love it. The stuff sticks to your hands, and soap doesn't even take it off. You just have to wait and not touch anything until it finally wears off. I feel like the reason I only saw it on younger kids was because they were too young to know how nasty the stuff was.

6. NO-AD

This is one of the staples for the pale kids at American summer camps. It comes in huge bottles in tropical hues, and has a smell to peel paint off a fence. But it's ok because you could probably use NO-AD to repaint that fence. It works, so I'm told.

7. Bull Frog

This stuff was my mom's punishment of choice for me during my camp years. It made my counselors hate me, and it's probably the reason why I always got stuck with the banana or rootbeer flavored popsicles after swim. It's thick, it's gooey, it contains titanium dioxide, it will explode in your bag, but it works. Bull Frog also makes a gel sunscreen (think aloe vera gel), but I only remember my mom buying it once, so I probably got burned using it. It's a nice idea though, if you really can't stand the stickiness of most sunscreens.

That's it! Enjoy the sun and try not to get skin cancer!

~Your Friendly Neighborhood Lifeguard

“No, no! The adventures first, explanations take such a dreadful time.”

You know how they say the funniest people are the ones who take their circumstances completely seriously? Wit doesn't work like that. Wit is humor's megalomaniac baby cousin who shows up to the wedding completely trashed because he's just turned 21 and has something to prove. Wit is not effortless; in fact, she spends most of her life trapped in classrooms or behind standardized testing prep books, waiting for the day she can finally step into the sunlight and have her goddamn day along side the penis jokes and fart noises who spent their glory days chilling in the locker rooms, equalizing the playing field for those poor souls who didn't make it through pubescence psychologically unscathed. Wit stood behind the school, just beyond the jurisdiction of the faculty, mourning the loss of tact and clarity of thought amongst the masses, pausing every so often to take a pull on the cigarette he pawned off of a friend's older brother.

Starting a blog is hard. I actually have a concrete reason for starting this one (we'll get there eventually, I swear), and I still started this post 3 or 4 times with variations on the same theme: 

"I don't know what to write or if it will be any good so please don't judge me you don't even have to read it if you don't want to I really don't care because I'm a self actualized person I promise I'm just expressing my thoughts because {................} so you can see that this really has nothing to do with you, my probably non-existent *note the humble brag* readers, this is all for ME and MY JOURNEY so there. But feel free to comment and like to affirm my existence...you know...if you want."

My point is, good people of the internet, that I tried. Because everyone gets an "A" for effort when starting their own blog, yes? Yes. I tried to supplicate you with platitudes and acknowledgements of my own diaristic ignorance, and I ended up anthropomorphizing wit and humor, using my local high school as the backdrop. You're still here, so joke's on you, my friend.

At least I'll sleep better tonight knowing that I didn't start out of the gate with "I don't know how this will go..." Because why would I ever tell you the truth on the internet?

In eleven days and twelve hours I will be getting on the biggest plane I've ever seen to fly as far away as one can get on a round planet. I'll spend a month in Hong Kong before using my brand new tourist visa to visit Guangzhou, in mainland China. For those who I haven't yet bored to death with the story, the Hong Kong and Guangzhou YMCA's have generously offered me the opportunity to spend a summer with them as an intern, working with their summer camps and learning how the Y functions internationally. 

I am now debating the repercussions of mentioning my place of employment given what I have written thus far. 

Well, anyway, if you love travel pictures, China, and me, this is the blog for you. I'll try to give you your money's worth. 

-I haven't picked my quippy sign off yet.