The apartment is shaping up nicely. I got throw pillows, which, as you may know, are important to me. They look good, too. I'll try to get pictures or a video up this week. I'm using black to tone down the unabashed green-ness of my furniture. It's bright, bright green.

I watched I Am Legend last night. The Professor got the dvd the other day. I thought it was alright, but I didn't like the graphics of the movie. It felt to me like a video game or something. At this point, friends, we can do better. Jurassic Park still looks better than the newest moster movies. You know why? They didn't CG everything. It was a good blend. I thought the story was kind of unsatisfying, also. The end is kind of like... what? I also watched The Great Debaters last night. It's ok, though nothing outstanding. An all-black cast that is (shockingly) executive produced by Oprah. It goes kind of like you'd expect. Lots of racism and a triumphant ending. Interesting point of the movie, though is that in the background, the train people mention "Texarkana." The acting was good in the movie, and the story was ok, but not much better than a tv movie, I'd say. A Denzel Washington tv movie.

Yesterday at the international fellowship an African guy rapped in French. It was outstanding.

Happy New Year!

T

Today I made my teacher smile. I was chatting with my American classmate while we were on mid-class break this morning. He asked me if I'd bought my plane ticket for the holiday yet. I told him I've bought the one to Bangkok but not back. It went on like this for a few minutes. We two Americans were speaking to each other in pure Chinese. My conversation teacher, who is actually the master of this class (as in, the teacher-students observe his class), I noticed was listening intently. Then, when I finished a particularly nice sentence, I noticed his grin. So I asked, "Did you like that, teacher?" But I asked it rhetorically. He then told the whole class that he is happy that Americans are speaking to each other in Chinese because that's why we're there. That is, to learn to speak it.

Turns out we get a four-day weekend for New Years. New Years! How ridiculous is that? They spit in Christmas's eye, but New Years gets us two prime class-days off! I know why this is, and you can deduce it. It makes me kind of mad.

Today I went and purchased a couple of pieces of art in the Silk Market. They're laquered paintings on some sort of wood-like material. I think they're nice, and I got them for a decent price, though I'd rather not say what. Every time I say how much I paid for something, someone immediately tells me they got it for half as much. It ticks me off. I hate it when people under-price me on things. It's not that I'm mad they got a good deal. Much the opposite. I wish I, too, had gotten the bargain basement deal. For example, I was told this week that the girls bought the same figurine set I got the Professor for Christmas at a different place for a quarter of what I haggled down. They paid 15 and I paid 60. It is irritating. Anyway, so I bought some art, and it's nice, and I'm happy.

Tomorrow we're actually going to IKEA and the art market. I didn't go on Christmas because my roommate is too lazy. But it's ok. We're for real going tomorrow. It's hard to buy art here because anything I buy either has to be small or cloth. I can't buy large canvases (though that's what I want), because it would be a waste of money ultimately. I plan to keep what I buy here.

Tonight, after my Silk Marketeering, I met the Professor for dinner at a Russian restaurant. The food was bland but hearty. I guess it was realistic. Potatoes were involved. At 8 p.m. the floorshow began. It was awkward. My integrity did not let me stay to see if it got better. I've honestly never seen women wearing angel/bellydancer outfits writhe about to techno music while dancing with enormous golden wing things. It was weird. Our exit was hasty.

Happy New Year! Xin nian kuai le!

T

May your days be merry and light

I'm American. I like new stuff. And I love Christmas. The whole thing is wrapped up in God and family and presents and food and time to relax and special songs and claymation tv events from the 60's.

We have special Christmas plates at my house. I know those plates will still be around when I get home, but it kind of strikes me how we might not need them. I am really curious to see what Christmas will be when I am in charge of it. I wonder, actually, if I'll ever be in charge of my own Christmas. Will it suck? When I grow up I want square plates in black and grass green. Can you have turkey on that, or does it beg something else? Ham? Greek salad? Who even knows?

For the record, I'm not an antitraditionalist. I like traditions. I just like to create my own. I view traditions as I view socks. We all need them, but I don't really want somebody else's. I'd like to break my own in, thanks. Maybe I'll retain a good deal of those of my predacessors. Maybe I won't. At Granny's house we have gumbo for Christmas. Those are fairly new socks, actually, and I think they are kind of flashy. I like them.

For me, traditions draw people together. They give something to look forward to and something to reminisce about. Remember the time that the tree fell over on Christmas day? Yeah, it kind of messed with a tradition (that is, we usually choose when to take the tree down), but it actually created a memory as a result. I like the flexibilityand fluidity of the unknown in the way we live these things year-to-year.

So, as I'm going to buy some new-house stuff at IKEA for myself for Christmas tomorrow, I'll think about you all. I'll know that Santa is slipping things down chimneys and through keyholes. I'll be aware of your turkey dinners and pecan pies. I'll even long for a hot cup of cider and a cheesy sweatshirt to make fun of. And, in the end, I'll be there next time. So, yes, I am breaking tradition this year. I'm living in a country that doesn't even have Christmas besides a sales ploy. And even so, I know that this day will be special.

It's only once a year, after all, that I tell Jesus happy birthday. May I never forget to thank Him for coming. Some traditions are bigger than others.

T

Christmas Eve Gift!

Now you all owe me a small present. I said it to you first!

This weekend has been interesting. Saturday the Usual Suspects and I came to the new apartment to get keys and for me to drop off my first bag of stuff. Afterwards we boarded the subway and rode to the family's house. We all had a Christmas party together, and it was loads of fun. We played ridiculous Christmas games (I won a bag of Chee-tos), and we ate ourselves silly on some catered Christmas food. We also did a Secret Santa exchange, and I recieved some scarves and gloves. Now I have choices and will never be cold. The Professor was my Secret recipient, and I got him a set of clay soldiers that replicate the ones found in the tomb in Xi'an. They're pretty cool, and they are what he actually wanted. I am also planning on getting him a book, but I haven't yet.

Yesterday we went to our normal international fellowship. It was a family day, so the kids were all out with the big people. I find these Sundays interesting because it's cool that everyone is together, but it's also kind of weird because then the teaching includes puppets. Puppets don't usually tackle deep matters. Christmas is a very deep matter, or it could/can/should be. They talked about the incarnation, and I think the point was that a child could understand it, and that's good. The rest of us, though, might have been a little left out.

After we left there, we went to the hutong. That's where we stayed when we first hit China, and let me say that it is even better today. We stumbled across a shop called Grifted, and I've read about it in that's Beijing magazine. They sell fantastically irreverent China-themed things. Plush communists from around the world, "No Spitting" t-shirts, Confuscious garden gnomes, you know, that kind of thing. I got a t-shirt (my first Chinese clothing purchase) that has a map of China on it and the stars from the flag over it with the big star over Beijing. It has "Beijing" printed at the bottom. I also bought a present for Jem back home, because it's exactly what I knew I'd get him here, and they sell this particular thing in the hutong. The Professor and I got some hand-made leather bracelets, so now we're apparently best friends forever.

Funny story about that actually, yesterday, during the "welcome your neighbor" I tried to give him a hug, which, of course, he blocked. This is normal behavior. So I shook hands with some people, and one man was wearing an Eagles (football) sweater. From behind me I hear "Don't shake his hand! He's an Eagles fan." The Professor is from Dallas, you see. Team rivals and whatnot. I turned around to him and said (loudly) "You're a Calvinist and I gave you a hug! I think I can shake hands with an Eagles fan!" Butterbean's family in front of us convulsed with laughter.

Back in the hutong we had lunch in a wonderful little restaurant called Fish Nation. We had fish 'n chips. I had a Greek salad, as well, and it made me happier than any other single food I've had since I've been here. It was amazing.

Then we hopped in a taxi to get back to the dorm. The Professor was supposed to meet his tutor in Zhongguancun to shop for a wireless card or something for his laptop. The wireless in his laptop is broken. So I needed to go to Carrefour for bedding for our new place. I had withdrawn money earlier in the day for this purpose, but the hutong had snuck up on me, so I was lower than should've been. I bought some of the bedding, but ran out of cash. So I wondered around for an hour and a half looking for an ATM that would take my card. Finally I found a Citibank, and they did it. So I spent another 30 minutes walking back to Carrefour only to be told I couldn't bring a bag into the store. Ok... so what does one do with such bags. There wasn't a counter check. I discovered electronic lockers for this purpose. Instructions in Chinese only, though. I watched for a good solid 10 minutes until I saw how it works, and then hastily shoved my stuff into a locker. I walked back into the store and found what I needed, bought it, and came home. This whole thing took from 3 until 6:30 yesterday afternoon. I bought two sheet sets with duvet covers and two duvets. That's it. It also took most of my patience and a bit of angry muttering.

All of that leads up to this, though: I am now living in the new apartment! My first apartment is actually in China. My life is weird. I am amazed that this place, which is 3000 times better than the dorm, is actually considerably cheaper. It's just silly like that. I'll give you a tour later, when we're settled in. It's nice. And the bedding I bought is nice looking, to boot.

Right now I'm a bit cold, though, I do admit.

T

Billy Joel talked about this, kind of.

I know how bad this sounds. I've wondered in the past six months away from the US whether or not China has a soul. Don't get me wrong. I know the people have souls. No doubt. But it sometimes seems like the soul of China is suffocating under it's current social, political, economic, creative, and moral situations. When these things team up, it's hard to see past them. The Professor pointed out that our dorm room walls are painted that terrible pink color as a combination of communist blandness and Chinese red. He may be right. Things in the homes are the wrong colors, each a bit too bright or too... artificial.

While journeying alone in this artificial world yesterday, I went to Xidan. I go to Xidan a lot, though mainly because there are two Starbucks which are a very short walk from one another. Yesterday, after I'd gone to my particularly favorite Starbucks in Xidan I went in search of a particular tourist-ready China gift that my secret Santa giftee mentioned to me he (or she) would like. There are stuff markets in Xidan, and I never realized how many. These are like the fabled Silk Street market, but less aggressive, for which I'm thankful. I've learned that one never stops moving in a market situation unless he is positive he wants to explain what he wants or doesn't. So I briskly walked through two markets (about 10 levels in two different buildings) and then in the third spotted something I liked. Now one must understand that in these markets are all the knock-off clothes from designers one might ever want. One should also understand that these clothes are not a good quality, and they will not last long. This over-abundance of counterfeit makes me shudder. I wonder if my life doesn't so often look like that. The only thing missing is someone screaming "looka-looka" and pointing out the wonders of a life spent chasing things which may not be what they appear.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't an existential crisis. We've already had that. That's so two months ago. And we're getting to the soul I discovered. Past the calculators and fake jade carvings, I found a small, unostentatious stand selling Chinese paper-cuts. Most were the Chinese zodiac, and, though beautiful, I couldn't care less about them. Then I found a mask. You may or may not know this, but I am a budding mask collector. There is something intriguing to me about the faces we put on, and, not to be too deep, they're pretty. These sets of paper cuts I found were sets of the traditional faces worn in the Peking Opera. The faces have deep, understood significance. When a person who is versed in this artform goes to take in a piece, the faces tell them which characters are which before a word is sung.

The people who developed this are the soul I'm looking for in China.

I may be too late, but I don't think so. I know we're all made in the same image. I see the beauty around me, even in this pulsing struggle of a city. I want to find the soul underneath the pressures. I want to see the smiling faces of the people who thought "what if..." and created the hutongs and the Imperial Palace. I want to uncover the spirits of the people who are not so bogged down with studies and money and today that they might stop to do something beautiful. I want those people to be my brothers and sisters.

If I can tell you a secret I've learned lately, it's this: some of them already are.

T

snapping scammers in half... mentally

I went shopping in Wangfuing the other day. Saturday, it was. While there, three different women approached me in order to scam me in some way or another. The first one tried to stop me on the sidewalk and I just walked past her. She pursued, but I just kept walking away. Next, I walked up the sidewalk, and another woman tried to stop me. At this point in my walk I was in no mood to be swindled.

The woman said, "Hello, where are you from?"

I stopped walking and turned to look her dead in the eye. "Listen to me," I said, "I know I'm in Wangfujing. I know who you are.
But I'm not a stupid tourist, and I'm not going anywhere with you."

She looked at me, stunned. "Bye bye."

Later, as I was waiting to take the video as seen in last time's blog, an exceedingly short woman came up to me. She asked me where I'm from. Beijing, I told her, though I didn't turn to talk to her. She asked if I was a student, and I replied that I am. Then she noticed how I was really and truly intending to ignorer her. She just told me ok, goodbye.

I don't like being taken advantage of. It drives me crazy.

Today I had pancakes for dinner. It was wonderful. For my (free!) dessert, I'm having a banana split. Can you say score?

Good evening.

T

Dear Ethan,

I know that the pictures of the mushrooms in the bathroom were kind of scary. They scared me, too! I want you to know that not every mushroom comes from the bathroom. I'm pretty sure that if your Mom or Dad has mushrooms to eat, they aren't from the bathroom. We threw those away. I hope that you'll try mushrooms again. I promise they won't be from the bathroom.

I actually went out today to take pictures of different fruits and vegetables in outdoor markets for you.





I even found mushrooms for sale, and the man who runs the stand let me take pictures. I told him his vegetables were very pretty. I hope you think so, too.



Your friend,

T.

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In another bit of news, I took video of the Adidas ad I complained about last week. Here is the actual video.


The picture itself is quite striking, though.


T