Currently Listening Black Holes and Revelations By Muse see related

Have train, will travel

Currently Listening Greetings From Michigan: The Great Lake State By Sufjan Stevens see related

Spontaneity

My, what a difference 15,000 kilometers makes.

As many of you know, China moves many of the activities and work of next Thursday and Friday to the weekends surrounding the week of National Day. It's really quite an orchestrated plan to make sure everybody gets a couple of more days off in a row. And what an accomplishment it is, two entire days are moved.

My outsider perspective is dizzying. You see, everyone seems to find out about this whole "move Thursday and Friday to the weekend" thing by accident. There is no memo that goes out. None of the students in my Thursday class, save one, knew that we had another class on Saturday. My official notice came tonight (36 hours b4 class starts) at 10:15 pm.

Now, honestly, I'm not complaining about the phenomenon. But, the fact, remains that I am dazzled by it. Rural China (as I've come to regard to my little city) operates by a different order. During my work as a financial analyst in America, I lived by the clock. When does the market close? Any change in the market schedule is known years in advance (barring something supernatural or extraordinary). Every week, I would arrive at work and examine the financial reports and announcements that would be made during the week. Despite what CNBC would have you believe, there are very few surprises in the financial world.

In many ways,  the west (due to its obsession with money) follows Wall Street's example. Every minute is scheduled away with PDA's and Outlook calendars filled to the brim. Even three day weekends are packed with "relaxation" and family togethers.What am I to think of a place where two entire days can be moved and no one notices? Perhaps it is time to stop looking at the calendar.

Stop planning like you know a darn thing. That's what I've learned. Today you may get a phone call and tomorrow may be moved, or worse yet it may not exist. Some of my trust has been placed in a stability and structure that no longer exists here. But my trust must be placed in the one who is always there. As surely as the sun will rise, he will be with me.

Currently Listening History of the Tango see related

Karaoke with No Shame

Perhaps I’m no stranger to showing-off. But singing Backstreet Boys in full pretty boy voice? That’s a little over the top for me.

I joined a couple of my American girl friends for an afternoon of karaoke here in Beijing (that’s right, two in the afternoon, it’s cheaper then you know). Two Chinese university students offered to take us and we all piled into a taxi. Party Time, the karaoke facility, knows how to sing old Chinese love songs in style. A 40” LCD flat screen adorned the front wall of our comfy karaoke room. Large Bose speakers lined the walls, along with twelve large orange subwoofers lining the back wall. Our hosts had fruit milk (coconut was my favorite) and various Chinese cookies waiting for us and we got down to boogie.

The two 19-year old Chinese girls gave us a running start with a hoppin’ Taiwanese favorite. Then suddenly everyone turned to me and I was asked to sing “Quit Playing Games with my Heart” to our crowd of five (Of course, Americans are used to singing karaoke in large bars with drunkin’ fans adorning the crowd. But Chinese are a little too shy, or fearful of losing face, for such an approach). Now, to my benefit, and perhaps to my American friends’ horror, I actually knew this Backstreet Boys album by heart. So I jumped up there in correct boy band fashion, flashing my smile and squeeling the high notes with no sign of bashfulness.

Admittedly, I had four university aged girls squealing back at me. It was this point that I realized that I had played all of my cards too soon. You see, it’s cheaper (per hour) to rent a karaoke room in Beijing for more than one hour. So I still had three hours of singing ahead of me and there was no way that I was ever going to top that performance. Mind you, I tried. Next with “I Just Wanna Fly,” then with a trio of “Country Road.” But, 180 minutes later when we closed the afternoon with “My Heart Will Go On and On,” I knew we had peaked too early.

Honestly, Celine Dion was the bottom pit of the evening. The good news was that I learned a lot about teeny bopper Chinese bands, each Taiwanese music video stranger than the last. The three Americans even busted out a Chinese song that we knew at one point, building up Sino-American relations. And as we left our evening of karaoke just in time to hit rush hour traffic, I knew that I would hesitate to take myself too seriously in China ever again.

Currently Listening Illinois By Sufjan Stevens Casmir Pulaski Day see related

Teach a Young Dog New Tricks

Just four days away from my 16-hour plane ride.

The last week has been a powerful ochestral movement, urging me to abandon my wrectchedness. Thus far I have been persuaded to listen to the tuba's sound advice...as best I can. The second movement is next and I have a solo. My training in the People's Republic will be intense. But I am committed to excellence. Really, there is no other way for me.

All of the people here are fantastic musicians, each playing strong legato phrases. I think that, in general we will all do well. But, of course, we haven't gotten to the hard part yet. Can I be taught new tricks while in Asia? The cliche doesn't match me, I am  not an old dog. But my American tricks are hard wired deep into me. Will I be willing to let my wiring be changed, even if it's for my own good?

I've decided that I will miss being funny while I'm in Asia. Even with the company of new friends, it's pretty easy for me to bring the house down with laughter. While I may be able to provide a little comedy relief for my teammates, I'm quite sure that only my oddities will bring a smile to my students' faces. But, then again, I've never been above a little self-deprecation for a laugh.

Currently Listening Funeral for a Friend By The Dirty Dozen Brass Band see related

Death by Paperwork

I'm bleeding to death this afternoon...from a paper cut.

A common occurrence in Chicago, my car was stolen last Christmas. But the heroes in blue, the good 'ole CPD, found it buried in parking tickets last January. In celebration, I threw a $500 party of a new ignition and repairing the car door lock. In unconditional love, I looked beyond her blemished interior and lack of stereo/airbags. We enjoyed good times together, traveling to such grand places as Detroit and Indianapolis.

But the heroes in blue, apparently, forgot to fill out their paperwork and now my beloved Saturn has been crippled (booted). The city tells me that without a "Recovery Report" I cannot contest the many parking tickets from this car jacking. My attempts to track down these forms at the CPD Headquarters and in District 19 have failed. Alas, the recovering officers must have gotten a cramp in their hands, for the form cannot be found.

And now I write an Ode to my '95 Saturn. She lies in the street in front of my apartment. Bound to the fate of a City Towing Yard. Trapped by the Recovery Report that never was. First betrayed by the city that would not protect her from theft. Now removed from loved ones because of the acts of a thief and the city that would not document her finding.

Goodbye sweet car. For while the criminals could not break your spirit, Mayor Daley has stripped your soul.