No, she is not my girlfriend

Some of you may be aware that I chose to forgo a career enhancing internship opportunity this summer in favor of a less practical option, traveling to Kuala Lampur and Bali. Well, two weeks and one iPhone 5S later (more on that later), I can honestly say that I made the right choice.

I don't come from a "vacation family." The Robertsons are not known for jetting off to the Caribbean, or hitting the slopes in Colorado. No, our vacations consisted mostly of 13 hour drives to Canandaigua, NY to visit family and swim in gramma's pool or heading an hour north to Smith Mountain Lake in Virginia, and I'm honestly OK with that. I never felt like I was missing out on anything. Plus, I can't stand the ocean.

Pop quiz:

1. Which body of water will make you vomit if you swallow so much as a mouthful of it?
2. Which body of water contains multitudes of animals that could either kill or maim you? 
3. Which body of water promises to fill every crevice of your being with sand for the rest of time?

The answer to all these questions is the ocean. Take me to a lake any day.

We had originally hoped to have a four person party on this trip, but two people had to drop out, leaving just my friend Natalia and I. This proved to be a running problem for us during this trip, as every taxi driver, hotel clerk and stranger on the street was absolutely convinced we were a couple. I became quite used to creating awkward situations with the phrase, "No, she is not my girlfriend."

The trip began July 10 with our flight to Kuala Lampur, Malaysia (I've chosen to skip the ticket buying process, because I don't have enough electronic ink to describe how stressful it is to buy tickets through Chinese websites). Nothing interesting to report other than how strange it feels to go to a country where you do not speak the language.

I realize this might sounds ridiculous coming from someone that already lives in central China, but it's far from the same thing. I long ago grew comfortable with the fact that, push comes to shove, I'll be able to communicate in China. Here, I am more than just a tourist, or at least I don't feel like a tourist. I speak the language, I understand basic cultural norms and that seems to afford me some level of dignity.

In Malaysia and Indonesia, however, I am no better than the next stupid tourist, walking around hoping to find someone that speaks English to help me find a bathroom. I felt helpless in a way that I sincerely did not appreciate. It should be noted that English is prevalent in both nations to a degree that astonished this Chinese immigrant. For example, I had a fascinating conversation with a Malaysian taxi driver who used to train bomb sniffing dogs in Virginia. Try having a conversation in English with a taxi driver in Beijing. You can't.

Our first day of actual sightseeing brought us to the world's largest free-flying aviary. In other words, lots of birds there. All jokes aside, it was a pretty amazing place, and the animals were beautiful, when they weren't pooping on you from the trees (you know I can't put aside jokes for more that one sentence at a time).

I met a friend

Our next stop was the adjacent exhibit of the legendary mouse deer. OK, maybe legendary isn't the right word, but they are pretty great. My pictures of them suck, but the internet has my back.

Was I right, or was I right?

The following day we visited Batu Caves. I normally prefer to avoid super touristy spots. Living in China, I see enough people as it is, so the idea of cramming my way into another subway car or bus to visit a site that ten million people a year come to see doesn't really get my juices flowing. This trip, however, taught me that sometimes these sites are popular for a reason. Take these caves, for instance. They are stunning, not only for their natural beauty, but for the human creations that surround them. Again, my photos sucks and/or were killed by the ocean (Sorry, we're still not to that part of the story), so I have raided Google images.

As you can imagine, it's far more impressive in person. If they'd let me, I would spend the night in there. Except for the monkeys, which are scary.

You might be saying, "But, Ethan, they are so cute! Look at it eat that juice box!"

Sure, but he stole that juice box, and probably from a child! Somewhere, there is a child crying, wishing they still had a juice box. So if you like monkeys, you must hate children. You should be ashamed of yourself. Plus, they have sharp, scary teeth. Need I say more?

Our final day was spent in the central market buying gifts, which, for obvious reasons, I will not discuss here.  Stay tuned for the next installment, when we head to Bali, Indonesia.

How to cure a cold in China

So I found myself feeling a bit sick last night. There's been a cold bug going around and I have been thoroughly bitten. So, what does a young man living in China do when he thinks he's getting sick? It's simple, really; you gather together all the drugs you can from around the world and take as many as humanly possible.

 Last night, I took a yellow pill from Poland about the size of fist.

 "Be careful," my friend warned me, "you might get a little dizzy when you take it."

Duly noted. I followed that up this morning with two more of those pills. Unfortunately, I misread that same friends text message. This is what I read:

"Better take two of my pills AND mix it with other medicine."

Here is what she actually said:

"Better to take two of my pills THAN mix it with other medicine."

So I of course took two more Tylenol Cold and Flu pills left over from when I took my friend to the hospital here in Wuhan. So far I am feeling a bit light headed, but alive. The back of the box has a word that looks a lot like pseudoephedrine, so I'm going to assume that's what it is. In addition, I took some vitamin pills that my Irish friend got from a Korean classmate.

"These are vitamin C pills," she said, "At least that's what I think they are. I'm not sure what is in them, but she said something about vitamins when she gave them to me."

They tasted slightly like citrus, so the theory seems to hold weight. If these don't work, I can always get the mother of the girl I tutor to give me some traditional Chines medicine. If my experience is anything to go by, it will look like dried roots and taste like dirt and licorice. Can't wait.  

A Very Wuhan Christmas (and New Year)

Yep, definitely dropped the ball on the whole one post a week thing. Oh well.

So it's the holidays, even on this side of the planet, so I have a few new experiences to report. The first of which is what it's like to spend Christmas away from home. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't all that dramatic. I certainly missed my family and friends at this point, thinking often of the various traditions that accompany the holiday season. Oh, and the food, God I missed the food. But I didn't fall into a deep depression and stay in my room crying and trying to make homemade eggnog.

The atmosphere around China certainly helped with that. For those of you wondering if your average Chinese citizen celebrates Christmas, the answer is yes, but also no. You see, China has adopted Christmas in its most secular, commercialized form. Christmas trees? Check. Christmas lights? Check. Any mention of Jesus' birth? Conspicuously absent. Christmas in China is basically another excuse to go shopping. I think it's kind of fantastic, in the unadulterated capitalistic sort of way, but it does lack the jovial spirit of an American Christmas. It left me feeling a bit cold to be honest.

Luckily, my Christmas festivities were much more enjoyable. A few friends and I organized a secret Santa gift exchange. Of course two hours after picking names out of a hat, everybody knew who was buying them their present, which kind of defeats the purpose. At least I had a pretty great gift (got my friend a rockin' pair of superman underwear, going to have to go back and get myself some as well). Christmas day we all went out out for dinner. The original plan was to go to KTV as a group, but half our party was way too tired, so in the end it was a ragtag group of four that made it there; me, an Irishman, a Chinese guy and a Polish girl. If that sounds like the set up to a bad joke, I agree.

KTV, perhaps more than any other activity, relies heavily on the attitudes of its participants. If you can find a group of people that really want to have a good time and aren't worried about looking like an ass while they do it, it's going to be amazing. But if you have just one person that sits there and judges everyone, it will be awful, truly awful. Thankfully, this group was here to make this a memorable Christmas. I can't fully describe what transpired in that room, but we sang for at least four hours. We're talking duets, solos, barbershop quartets, everything. You name it, we did it. At some point my Irish friend decided he was very hot, and got into his underwear. This only added to the atmosphere. It was a Christmas I will not soon forget.

It should be noted that we did not enjoy any time off from classes during this break. The Christmas break part of Christmas didn't make it over, I'm sad to say. But we coped, mostly by not actually going to class. I am a studious man, just not on during the holidays.

Unfortunately, New Years did not bring the same level of enjoyment as Christmas. A couple hours of drinking in anticipation of the night out was followed by boring time passed at bars that I barely remember, and not because I drank that much. Of course, I'm old now, or at least my body thinks it is, so I woke up the next day feeling like I had headbutted a train. This lead to much introspection on why I drink alcohol in excess the first place, but that's for another post.

Now I find myself somewhat hungover from the holidays that weren't really holidays. All I can think about now is that I'm less than 21 days from being home. I am a week away from my final exams and I can't say I'm especially excited about it. Here's to hoping that I can bring it all together for a beautiful finish.