<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765</id><updated>2011-04-22T06:57:32.531+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramon's Abroad</title><subtitle type='html'>That's one word, not two.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112972245970564499</id><published>2005-10-19T19:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T19:47:39.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm over here now.</title><content type='html'>Okay. So China won't let me use this website, so I've decided to move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can now find my journal at:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.livejournal.com/users/ramonsabroad/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there you have it. Livejournal is visible by me and I know how to use it. So get to it! There's an introductory post and everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the time being all this stuff will still be here. I may move it all over in the future, but for now I'm not willing to try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112972245970564499?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112972245970564499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112972245970564499' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112972245970564499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112972245970564499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/10/im-over-here-now.html' title='I&apos;m over here now.'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112546979210986492</id><published>2005-08-31T14:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T14:29:52.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay. Week One is here.</title><content type='html'>Better late than never, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures of my first week in Beijing. Many of these will be of the Summer Palace and the Forbidden City. Next week's worth will be of the Great Wall. After that will come the pictures of my first week in Shenzhen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if someone can supply some hosting space I will supply videos of a few of us trying to learn to ride a bike like the Beijingers. I also have some video of the Beijing Acrobats, who performed on a stage where the rules of physics simply do not apply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I cannot actually see the page I am uploading all this to, so I cannot respond directly to comments. I can read them, however, so don't feel discouraged. If anyone has any questions please ask them. I can always attempt to provide an answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. On with the pictures. I might as well start at the beginning, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/vrdelacruz/WeekOne/BeijingArc11.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/vrdelacruz/WeekOne/BeijingArc21.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured I'd start you all off with some images of the stunning Beijing skyline. Amazing, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/vrdelacruz/WeekOne/BeiDaPagoda.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pagoda is on the Beijing University campus. Many of the buildings around that school were simply gorgeous. Like this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/vrdelacruz/WeekOne/BeiDaonDuty.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A rain had just begun to fall on this day, breaking the horrible humidity. Between classes I ran out to take some pictures only to find that this guard wanted to see it all too. I like this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/vrdelacruz/WeekOne/BikeRack.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just a bike rack. A very, very full bike rack. The students at Bei Da ride bikes all the time and everywhere they go. They're all one speed, but they all run. I liked this one too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must now step out for sustinence, but when I return I will continue to post pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112546979210986492?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112546979210986492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112546979210986492' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112546979210986492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112546979210986492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/okay-week-one-is-here.html' title='Okay. Week One is here.'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513381328502605</id><published>2005-08-27T17:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T17:10:13.290+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And we're all caught up!</title><content type='html'>Finally. Man oh man was that ever hard. Next comes the pictures. Now that you all know what I've been up to the past month it's time for you to all see where I've been up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But first... LAST NIGHT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="26" year="2005"&gt;8/26/05&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I’ve Finally Found a Home.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Contract signing took place today. I made some cultural faux pas, ate too much good food and ended up right here where I belong. And I’ve finally found a home, right here in this song.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When my name was first called alongside the name of another I became a bit nervous. I didn’t really want to share a space with another person. Sure, we each have our own rooms, that much was guaranteed by our contract. Thankfully the person I am sharing with is a good fellow. But the story behind our settling is something else entirely…&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We paired up, met our teacher and took a tour of our school. Evertything appeared to be in order. We will be teaching in a school of about fifteen hundred students. And this is considered small in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. We were taken to our new apartment and that’s when the fun began.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My teacher decided that she had to make my bed for me. I asked her not to, but she did anyway. While she was doing this my new roommate and myself were examining the premises. It appeared that the previous residents had not moved out and that a third person may even be living here currently.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As if that wasn’t enough to think about, the room itself was a bit of a hole. Everything is very dirty. Roach bodies have shown up on more than one occasion. My bed has a full on mosquito net around it. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The front door has a gate on it. The balcony has a metal fence that has to be locked with a chain and a padlock. The washer floods the little outdoor washing room. The showerhead is detachable, but when it’s hanging on the wall it’s not in a space where you can actually shower under it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The door to the kitchen has a new plate of glass on it. There is no doorknob. The jamb has a massive fracture in it, like someone threw their entire weight into it in order to get through. There are three water boilers in the kitchen. One of them was still hot and had steam coming out of it when we opened the lid. Crazy. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We eventually learned that there was no third person living here. She had just left all her things in our new apartment. Clothes, makeup, Playgirl magazines, it was all here. AWESOME.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After examining the contents of all three computers we had learned a thing or three about the former residents. We also found a wonderful set of Chinese Chess and a Ping Pong kit. The living room has mellow blue track lighting. I think we won today. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We had some time to let this sink in. Then our third moved in. Thankfully he’s part of our program and is a mellow fellow. We cleaned up, had dinner with our respective headmasters (I ate a boiled duck’s head) and proceded to find our new pijiu depository.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our little neighborhood is something special. I say this without any sarcasm at all. It’s&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;a maze of streets that wind their way through each other with shops, steamer places and barbershops all scattered about. It really is something else. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We live right on the beach. We are a five minute walk from Minsk World. On the other side is the tallest mountain in Shenzhen. Covered in trees and trails, I believe that this place will provide us with many hiking adventures. Also, there’s &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Minsk&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; world.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As for the three of us, we get on famously. We had some pijios out on our new balcony. Three girls from the program live next door. We are surrounded by comfort even as we have been thrust into this new world. I didn’t think I wanted that this morning, but now I know better. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I also know that we surely won tonight. This place will be fun for the next ten months. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513381328502605?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513381328502605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513381328502605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513381328502605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513381328502605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/and-were-all-caught-up.html' title='And we&apos;re all caught up!'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513365422919524</id><published>2005-08-27T17:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T17:07:34.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date year="2005" day="25" month="8"&gt;8/25/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Today I found a VCD special edition of In the Mood For Love. It cost eighty five kuai (about ten dollars) and comes in a beautiful box with about a dozen postcards. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;So what’s the problem? It’s a grainy Mandarin dub of the Criterion Collection edition with no English. I really, really want this movie right now. Badly. I don’t even have the soundtrack. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513365422919524?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513365422919524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513365422919524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513365422919524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513365422919524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/82505-today-i-found-vcd-special.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513360258081519</id><published>2005-08-27T17:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T17:06:42.580+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="24" year="2005"&gt;8/24/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Okay. I lied. I wasn’t ready for today. If you’re not allowed to eat or drink then that means you’re not allowed to get coffee. That’s not appropriate. Not at all.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the hospital we were shown a wonderful display of the Chinese efficiency we had all heard so much about. Blood test, eye and ear test, heart test, lung x-ray, blood pressure, EKG and sonogram for ninety people in two and a half hours. That’s not bad. Not bad at all.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And the best part? I learned one more thing about our friends in the government. They love us. They love us a lot. Meals are not only paid for, they are buffets of the best sampling of food you could ever hope for in a buffet. Fried noodles. Sushi. Pork chops in black bean sauce. Ten different soups. Ten different cakes and ice creams. And a cup of coffee that rivals anything consumed by one Agent Dale Cooper.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All three meals for the next two days are covered by the Education Bureau. They really want us to feel comfortable here in Shenzhen and for that I am very glad. This is, after all, home. &lt;/p&gt;         &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m excited. I love this plan. I’m also excited about all the theme parks in this town. Including &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Minsk&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; World. Look up the &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Minsk&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; on Google. It’s a big boat. And it’s now here in Shenzhen. They have tank rides.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Tank Rides, Damien. Tank Rides. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513360258081519?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513360258081519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513360258081519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513360258081519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513360258081519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/82405-okay.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513351788075102</id><published>2005-08-27T17:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T17:05:17.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date year="2005" day="22" month="8"&gt;8/22/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I graduated today. Go me. I am now certified to teach English as a foreign language. We also had three hours of performances that our students put on. Three hours. Too. Long. And after that? Immediately after? We had to get on a damn train. I had no chance to say goodbye to my students, I had no chance to do anything but run to the bus so we could get on the train. We were all irritable and frustrated. It’s not like we’re going to be back in a few weeks to continue class with these people. It’s likely that I will not see many of them ever again. And that sucks. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This would be okay if the rest of the night had been smooth. But anything going smoothly on this trip seems like too much to ask. I suppose it’s forgivable, as this is the first year that they’ve organized this program. Oh. Wait.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;’s train station is a curious beast indeed. People everywhere. Families claim sections of floor and lay out their newspapers or straw mats to lay on. People are sleeping, others eye lonely bags. We stood for three hours before we were allowed on our train. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The organizers wandered throughout the station searching for us to give us our tickets. Before we left we were told that we were to have an entire hard sleeper car and two halves of other cars. A hard sleeper consists of rooms that have no doors. Each room has six bunks in them with about ten rooms per car. We were told to get our bunkmates worked out before we left, as ticket numbers didn’t really matter just so long as we stayed in our areas. Then we were told that numbers did matter, but we could trade when the train got on its way. At this point I realized that I was going to get a bunk and that was good enough for me. So I let it all go. And it appears as though I was alone in that sentiment.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The chaos from the station carried on to the train. I had my bunk in the main car and that was good enough. I had a place to sleep, I win. When we arrived in our car we saw that half of it was full of Chinese people. So much for our guarantee. Everyone flipped out. Everyone. One poor girl had the beginnings of a migrane and everyone around her was shouting and screaming and whining like children. For a half hour it was like we were in middle school instead of teaching middle school. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I sat on my bunk and laughed. I had my sleeping place, I had my things, I had some wonderfully smooth rice wine in a gas can (seriously. It’s in a gas can).&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Finally everything settled down. I was sleeping under five other people and across from a good guy who was willing to share his Jack Daniels (complete with label in Chinese characters). &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then the lights went out. And all was well. Along with the darkness came sanity and soothing conversation. A few of us ventured into the dining car and all was well again.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sleep came fast and well. And the bed was really quite comfortable, even if it’s a little small.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date year="2005" day="23" month="8"&gt;8/23/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At &lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="18"&gt;six o’clock&lt;/st1:time&gt; in the morning three alarm clocks went off. Someone started shouting and swearing and many people were roused by the noise. Alarm clocks were not turned off before they were packed so there was, surprise surprise, more chaos. Then at seven the staff turned on the music and threw open every curtain. Rude. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I managed to continue my slumber. I awoke to find two women sitting at the window at the end of my bed engaged in conversation. I followed them to the dining car to find coffee, which was really quite good. This is the first morning in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; that someone else has made me coffee. And it was so good that I asked her to make me three more cups. All told I had some terrible noodles and four cups of coffee. Fifty five kuai. Ripped off. But it was so worth it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We sat in that car for three hours, just looking out the window. While we were there the staff all piled in to have breakfast, the cooks and waitresses were all called to attention for their daily pep talk/reprimand and the cars were locked down twice for station stops. And we were allowed to sit there through it all. I now know how to order cups of coffee and tea. I have finally mastered this measure word (bei, cup of) and it will be placed next to my other favorite (ping, bottle of). &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; is a beautiful country. Even though we are zooming past it all rather fast I am finding myself enamored with every single thing we have passed. Everything. From the run down buildings to the rivers and crops. From the bridges to the barges, from the writing to the dialects. As the days pass I become more and more certain that this trip was the right move.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Also I have a tour guide through &lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Hunan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:State&gt; province if I ever wish to go traveling. And I think I will.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="23" year="2005"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="23" year="2005"&gt;8/23/05&lt;/st1:date&gt; (Later)&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You know, I used to love her, but it’s all over now.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My love affair with &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;’s rail service has come to an abrupt halt. Not since sitting in my friend Chuck’s Chevy Nova (the one with the Duke door) have I been in a more unsanitary vehicle. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is an old man who mops the walkways in between the cars. I’ve seen him mop a lot today. What I have not seen is a bucket or even any fresh water. I haven’t smelled a clean walkway in about eight hours. It’s been even longer since I’ve been in a clean bathroom.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have, thankfully, found a western toilet, but it’s not much cleaner. And all of them open directly onto the tracks when the flush button is pushed. Okay, that’s actually kind of cool. Gross, but fun to watch. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am tired of the constant smell of urine and cigarette smoke. I am tired of being crowded rein a car no matter where I am. I am tired of the sock lady pushing past every hour. That’s right. There’s a food cart, a drink cart and a SOCK cart.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think the worst part of all this is that I only have an hour left on the train. Now that I know this the next hour will be sheer torture. I want a shower. I want a good meal that doesn’t include tinned ham. I want to sleep in a big bed. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am anxious and ready to not be here any longer.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="23" year="2005"&gt;8/23/05&lt;/st1:date&gt; (Still Later)&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All has been forgiven. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We arrived in Shenzhen so on time that for a minute I thought H. Ross Perot had been elected president of this very special Special Economic Zone. This city is something else. Neon is everywhere as are skyscrapers. Usually there is neon on the skyscraper, on occasion there is even neon on the skyscraper frame that is being constructed behind the green netting. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We got off the train and stood around for an hour while waiting for luggage. A group of us pulled out what is now known as The People’s Ball (a tennis ball that was found on the second day in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; and has since been bounced everywhere we have been) and begun to play. From the other side of the white railing a crowd of Chinese gathered, fascinated by the Wai Guo Ren throwing a little green ball. The performance grew more frenzied while the crowd simply grew. We were home.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Home. That’s what I’m going to be calling this city for at least the next eleven months. That feels so very absurd, but as I currently don’t really have a home this is going to have to be good enough. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I’m now home. Almost. I’m living out of a suitcase for the next two days, but I’m that much closer. And home is ninety degrees at night and more humid than &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;. Surprise!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We stepped off the gross fake air of the train and into the hotter, grosser real air of Shenzhen. It’s not as polluted, so it’s got that going for it, but the next hour was still no fun. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then the Government stepped in. I love the Government. I am now staying in a five star hotel. It is currently &lt;st1:time hour="12" minute="30"&gt;midnight thirty&lt;/st1:time&gt; and I have just eaten a wonderful meal from a noodle house down the street. Our luggage truck was taking forever and we only had an hour left to eat before our cutoff for the medical exam in the morning.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We ran down the street and convinced a closing restaurant to stay open a little longer and then ran back to catch our luggage. I found a rather good katsu curry (Matthew, I don’t remember what this place is called, but it’s in LA too, so heads up. The icon is very cute, a little kid eating out of a bowl, adorable) and paid too much for a soda. But I am satiated and ready for tomorrow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513351788075102?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513351788075102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513351788075102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513351788075102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513351788075102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/travel-day.html' title='Travel Day!'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513326571366867</id><published>2005-08-27T16:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T17:01:05.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date year="2005" day="21" month="8"&gt;8/21/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tonight we had our farewell dinner. And, for once, the program provided us a decent meal. Beyond decent, really.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The food kept coming, the pijiu flowed like wine, we ganbaied quite a bit and we ate like kings. And we didn’t pay a dime. This was how Bei Da bid us farewell. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The highlight of the meal was the fish. The night before a few of us went to dinner at the Old Man. Since we can’t read we simply call the restaurants by characteristic rather than name. The Yellow Place Next to the Bakery, The Old Man, The Flower Place, the Red Place Next to the &lt;st1:street&gt;&lt;st1:address&gt;Flower   Place&lt;/st1:address&gt;&lt;/st1:Street&gt;, you get the idea.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The highlight of that meal at the Old Man was the fish. But this wasn’t any fish. As our first courses arrived at our table a boy arrived with a&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;very large net. In this net was a flopping fish. We agreed that this fish would indeed be very tasty and we took it back to the kitchen. A half our later arrived the best meal I have had in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;On the plate was an entire fish. The head and tail were still on the plate, but the rest of the fish had been deboned and deep fried. The fish pieces looked like French fries. The entire thing was coated in a wonderful sweet and sour sauce.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We had this at the Bei Da farewell dinner as well. The appearance of the fish was a wonderful surprise, as was the lightning fast response to “Liang ping pijio!” The bottles kept coming and the glasses were always full. Our final count was in the area of sixteen big bottles for five people. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Everyone was in their cups. Our professors, our TAs, our peers. We started toasting each other, our teachers, our friends, other tables, everyone.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shouting “Ganbei” is a standard toast, but what makes it unique is the presentation. Everyone tops off their cups, stands up, clinks glasses and shouts “Ganbei!” Then we empty the glasses as quickly as possible. When you get one hundred people celebrating together with an open bar then mischief is bound to occur. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Also, I ate another duck’s brain and convinced many other people to do the same. Good times.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513326571366867?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513326571366867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513326571366867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513326571366867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513326571366867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/82105-tonight-we-had-our-farewell.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513314486579780</id><published>2005-08-27T16:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T16:59:04.866+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="17" year="2005"&gt;8/17/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today, for the first time, I felt homesick. My lesson today was based entirely on &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Portland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;. Before I left I found a few free &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Portland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; guides, some maps from Powell’s and a postcard or two. I took along the postcards that were purchased for me at the airport and a picture that had been secreted in my suitcase.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I adapted my lesson directly from the lesson I had observed moments before. I allowed the students the opportunity to look over the goods and formulate some questions about what they had been given. I would answer their questions then would ask the same question back to them about &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. We talked quite a bit about the differences between &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;America&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and about how beautiful my city is compared to &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And you know what? They’re right. On the surface &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Portland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; is a very beautiful city. Amazingly so. Of course, &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Portland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; also has 1/20&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; the population of &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;. And that’s only if you count the reported population as opposed to the estimated (ten million reported, fifteen million estimated).&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As we near our lift off date I’m realizing more and more what I have got myself into. I’m still excited, but I’m also very afraid all over again. We have, collectively, been living in a bubble here. We are all together all day, we go to a university in the afternoon, outside of our adventures in the restaurants we are surrounded by English. We speak it and we hear it. Chinese is frequent but it doesn’t feel real yet. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And we leave again in a week. All the tension from the flight over was assuaged by setting foot in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. That tension has returned now that I’m realizing how alone, comparatively, I will truly be.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m excited and terrified all over again. Which kind of isn’t fair, as I’ve already gone through this once before on this trip. But hey. That’s part of the experience. Everything else is pretty incredible. This is just another hurdle. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513314486579780?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513314486579780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513314486579780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513314486579780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513314486579780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/81705-today-for-first-time-i-felt.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513299123044026</id><published>2005-08-27T16:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T16:56:31.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="16" year="2005"&gt;8/16/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve been getting out a bit more these days, breaking free of the circles I have created. New people on the bus, new dinner partners and new conversations have taken place. I love meeting new people like this. Well, I mostly love it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m one of the oldest on this trip. And I feel it. Not that I feel physically old, but I notice the differences between the ages. Many times in the past two weeks have I thought “I remember being like that.”&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In other news, I’m busy. Wo hen mang. Here’s what my day looks like.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="18" minute="0"&gt;6:00&lt;/st1:time&gt; – I wake up, shower and sometimes make it out for breakfast. &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="19" minute="30"&gt;7:30&lt;/st1:time&gt; – We get on the bus to go to Bei Da. &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="8" minute="0"&gt;8:00&lt;/st1:time&gt; – We arrive at the university and go to Chinese Language class.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="9" minute="0"&gt;9:00&lt;/st1:time&gt; – We go to Chinese speaking drills.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="9" minute="50"&gt;9:50&lt;/st1:time&gt; – We cross the entire campus to go to our teaching building. This is usually a fifteen minute walk with only an old man with a cart to sell us drinks along the way.&lt;br /&gt;10:10-11:00 – I watch someone teach a class. Sometimes it’s good. Usually it’s terrible.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;11:10-12:00 – I teach my class. &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="12" minute="0"&gt;12:00-1:30&lt;/st1:time&gt; – We have lunch. There are many places in Bei Da to eat, but most of them are too expensive and not very good. It’s also been too hot to eat recently (Fun Fact: Did you know that it’s possible to hit 99% humidity?). Usually I linger in the air conditioned underground market.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="13" minute="30"&gt;1:30-5:30&lt;/st1:time&gt; – We have TEFL class. All afternoon. We (sometimes) get our time to plan lessons as scheduled, we sometimes have guest lectures. We always are bored, tired, worn through and have too low a tolerance to deal with people who refuse to simply give it to us straight. &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="17" minute="30"&gt;5:30&lt;/st1:time&gt; – We get back on the bus to go back to the hotel. &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="18" minute="0"&gt;6:00&lt;/st1:time&gt; – We get home. &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time hour="9" minute="0"&gt;9:00&lt;/st1:time&gt; – I am usually asleep by this time, if I’m lucky. The bed is hard and very comfortable. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s been fun, however. It’s not always easy to get out to get things other than work done. Like laundry. I’ve been doing that in my sink. So there you go. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513299123044026?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513299123044026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513299123044026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513299123044026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513299123044026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/81605-ive-been-getting-out-bit-more.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513252587780774</id><published>2005-08-27T16:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T16:48:45.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="13" year="2005"&gt;8/13/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today was my first day off since we arrived in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;. According to the schedule we get one day off a week to play or run errands. I opted for play with a dash of adventure. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My roommate was heading out to Bei Da to meet his student and go to a market. I split the cab with him and two others and then set out on my own. We arrived at the East Gate of Bei Da at eleven. I bade them farewell and walked through the university to the West Gate. After a few detours I found myself on a street headed south. My only directions were three written lines that kind of showed me where I wanted to be. I had a map of &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;, but I had yet to actually find my hotel on it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But that’s okay. There is nothing greater than walking alone through a land whose language you don’t understand to a destination of whose location you are unsure. It truly is a liberating experience (I’m not being sarcastic here, it really was great). &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was also hot. Very hot. Last night was a tremendous lighting storm, exponentially more amazing than the one that greeted us our first night. I had hoped that this storm would put off the humidity, and this morning I thought that maybe my hopes were well founded.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But by &lt;st1:time hour="12" minute="0"&gt;noon&lt;/st1:time&gt; it was right back up there again. The temperature was lower but the humidity was higher. I was walking through water. But so was everyone else, so it wasn’t too bad. Everyone here knows and understands, so shirts are open or pulled up under the armpits. I think I need to tan my belly before I try this trick, however. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ten minutes later I had arrived at my location, a wonderfully cool bookstore. But this wasn’t just any bookstore. This was &lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;Handai&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt;  &lt;st1:placename&gt;Book&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;City&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;! Had they known of Powell’s they probably would have changed their name to &lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;Book&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype&gt;Village&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;, but hey. We’re across an entire ocean.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The highlight of this bookstore was its section of English books. Real books. From English speaking countries. I found a phrasebook that is sure to come in handy along with some really neat books on Chinese Mythology. For an hour it felt like I was home again. I had to pull myself away from the shop before I spent too much time and money on books. I walked out of there with four books for 100 kuai. That’s about eleven dollars. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I found where I needed to go on my map and hailed a cab. The third one knew where to go and away we went. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; has its fair share of traffic lights and lines painted on the street. But there are no laws to regulate the use of these things, so they’re more like suggestions than rules. And most drivers seem to believe that they know better than to listen to some stupid traffic regulation system. But they also all manage to get through traffic everyday without killing me, so I’m okay with all this.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If there are two lanes why commit and simply choose one? If you hang out in the middle then you have more options to choose from! If there are two cars approximately a car length apart why use a turn signal? It’s not like anyone’s going to notice! Simply swerve between them. You’ll fit. If there are people crossing the street but you see that your car can fit between two of the clumps then why actually wait your turn? You’ll fit.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Back in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Portland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; I was always frustrated by the lack of driver courtesy when I was trying to play Human Frogger. Cars would slow down or wave me on when I was trying to jaywalk. Had these cars simply maintained their speed then we all would have been just fine. I am pleased to report that &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; drivers understand the inner workings of Human Frogger. The uninitiated should find a clump of people to cross with, as there are often too many directions to look in at once so it’s easy to get run over. But in a clump you have more eyes to look in more directions. There is also safety in numbers. Granted, four people aren’t stronger than a car, but it’s still soothing for whatever reason. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cars in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; also don’t change lanes very often, which is a godsend when you’re standing on the narrow line that separates the two lanes waiting for the other half to clear. Many times crossing the street takes two steps. It is a Herculean task, first one half then the other. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Drivers use the horn quite a bit as well, but it’s never in anger. If these guys could have a horn that said “Hey! I’m right here! Hello!” I’m sure they would be in every car. Generally the use of the horn is an act of futility. I never don’t see the cars coming, even when the driver is flicking his lights in my direction. And the horns are honked so many times a day that other drivers don’t really pay attention to them any more. So the horn does nothing, even when it’s being leaned on for five minutes straight. I wonder if I’m ever going to stop laughing and start getting irritated by it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I ate at KFC today for lunch. It was the same and just as expensive as in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;America&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. Now that I know I don’t think I ever have to go back. The highlight was a little kid with a rat tail who said hello to me. While I was washing my hands he stood up and ran over, a huge smile on his face. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Hello! How are you?”&lt;br /&gt;“I am fine, thank you. And you?”&lt;br /&gt;”Thank you, goodbye!”&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Kids here are always coming up to us and smiling or saying hello. Sometimes they even ask for a picture. Of course if I were to ask a Chinese person in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;America&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; for a picture I’d get slapped. But hey. Kids are great.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The other day was the Chinese equvilant of Valentine’s Day. Pizza Hut was full of couples. I didn’t realize how sweet it really was until I saw the prices. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Damn. Expensive American Food. Pizza Hut is a fancy sit down place here in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; complete with a girl who opens the door for you as you arrive. &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At this point I can, given some thought, speak and write any number. Writing still holds my fascination as it’s helping me crack the code of the world that surrounds me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513252587780774?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513252587780774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513252587780774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513252587780774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513252587780774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/81305-today-was-my-first-day-off-since.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513205841571576</id><published>2005-08-27T16:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T16:40:58.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="12" year="2005"&gt;8/12/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The &lt;st1:place&gt;Forbidden City&lt;/st1:place&gt; is perhaps the greatest thing I have ever seen in my life. Never before have I seen, with these eyes, a more stunning man made construction in my entire life. As if the sheer scope of the place wasn’t enough, the fact that it was built before &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Columbus&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; arrived in the &lt;st1:place&gt;Western Hemisphere&lt;/st1:place&gt; seals the deal. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This city is the perfect mixture of man and nature. The gardens contained within are simply amazing. What is unfortunate is that pictures can’t possibly do it justice. The city simply keeps on going and the attention to detail is consistent. Every pole on every rooftop has the same image laquered upon it. Every. One.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The rooftops go on forever, the passageways twist and turn. It’s easy to get lost and hard to see everything. The main gate is followed by three more with each square being larger than the last. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I also visited my first Starbucks in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. In the &lt;st1:place&gt;Forbidden City&lt;/st1:place&gt;. That’s right. There’s a Starbucks in a six hundred year old emperor’s palace. That gets a big Bu Hao! Of course I had to have a Green Tea Frappacino…. Okay, so I buckled like a belt. But I was thirsty. Guess how much it cost? Thirty nine kuai. Our lunch at McDonalds (more on that later) cost less for two of us than my one drink. Yeah.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you have ever been in a Starbucks then you know what the interior sounds like. Jazz music, chatter, machinery brewing expensive coffee drinks. This was no different. In fact, it was too similar.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Portland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; there is a man. A man named Pepe. At any one time Pepe is surrounded by no fewer than four beautiful blonde women. When Pepe sings he sounds like Desi Arnaz. And when the band begins to play they play hard. His backup comes from the four beautiful blondes. Pepe used to teach swing dancing at the local Crystal Ballroom. After the classes he would get up on stage and rock out, forcing us to put our newfound skills to the test. He did this every Sunday for at least five years. He also played at my junior prom. Good guy, that Pepe.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pepe and the Bottle Blondes have only put out one album, but what an album. I was upset to find that I did not take it with me to &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. It’s really very good and never stops moving.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;           &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pepe and the Bottle Blondes were playing in the background in the &lt;st1:place&gt;Forbidden City&lt;/st1:place&gt;. That made me feel weird.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There was a man in the city. A man with a plan. His plan was to separate me from my money. And it worked. When I realized what had happened I did get a little upset. But then I realized that I spent eleven dollars instead of eight. For a watch with a picture of Mao. Mao has an arm as well. One that moves. And waves. And it’s awesome. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As we passed through &lt;st1:place&gt;Tiananmen Square&lt;/st1:place&gt; we were accosted by a handful of people. One man was selling watches. Another man was selling Little Red Books. They followed us across the entire square. The whole thing.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We have discovered a good way to get rid of them, however. No matter what price they quote a response of “yi kuai” (one kuai) usually gets rid of them. Usually. These two however, were tenacious. And someone buckled and bought a book. I bought a watch. But it’s an awesome watch! Really. I need to get more to send home. A picture cannot truly do it justice. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;While in Tiananmen we stopped by all the buildings. We were unable to enter any of them, but we tried. I contemplated jumping the fence outside of Mao’s mausoleum to climb up on one of these awesome statues, but then I remembered that there were people with binoculars on the roof of the &lt;st1:place&gt;Forbidden  City&lt;/st1:place&gt; watching my every move. I may be the white devil, but I’m not stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mausoleum was closed, which was really too bad as I wanted to see Mao’s body. Badly. Even if I couldn’t take a picture I still wanted to see it. From what I hear the lines get very, very long. But I couldn’t get in, so we went to McDonalds instead.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;McDonalds in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; is just like McDonalds in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;America&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. And boy was it good. My double cheeseburger meal was fifteen kuai, fifty jiao (15.50) and tasted just like home. There were a few local specials but I really didn’t want to try these out. The outfits were fantastic, however. The shirt said “I’m Lovin’ It” in English and below it “I’m Just Liking This” in Chinese. The pants had an embroidered “M” on each cheek. And everyone seemed to be generally excited to eat like the Americans do. I don’t think I’ll be going back. Especially after tonight’s meal.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I met my roommate and one of his students for dinner. Three others joined us for spicy crab. We got into two cabs to head over to this restaurant. Our driver followed the other cab and the ride was unreal. This was my first experience in a car in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and it was not unlike a rollercoaster. Left, right, in and out, our driver took us through traffic. He did not care that the bus was larger than him and driving in both lanes. His job was to follow a cab and he was determined to do just that. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We arrived alive and well and ready to eat. So did the rain. As we walked the thunder began to ring through the heavens. The lightning flashed and the street vendors took apart their stands faster than I could have imagined as the first drops began to fall. The drops became bigger and bigger and soon enough we were running through a curtain of water.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There were three umbrellas for seven people. Struggling to stay beneath an umbrella with two other people isn’t fun, so I decided to just run. Phone booths in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; place the phone five feet off the ground under an orange bubble. These booths are often placed about a hundred feet from each other. I found myself running from booth to booth, waiting for the group to pass before taking off again. I wound up being soaked but I wasn’t concerned.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; is too much fun.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We arrived at the restaurant soaking wet. As I dashed for the plastic curtains the waitress stuck her hands out and waved them at me. Then she saw my situation and told me to enter. My roommate ran in as a woman sitting inside stared at us, wide eyed. I looked at her and smiled and she broke into laughter. We all laughed and the situation was calm once again.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After drying off with some paper napkins we took a seat in a private room (because we are loud Americans). There we ordered fourteen spicy crabs, an entire fried chicken with head, pineapple rice, potatoes, lotus and Lion’s Head (pork meatball with egg yolk in the middle). Delicious tea and beer were on hand and Jon’s student taught us a drinking game in Chinese. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Going around the table clockwise each person speaks a number out loud. Every number that contains seven (seven, seventeen, twenty seven) or is a multiple of seven (seven, fourteen, twenty one) isn’t spoken, only tapped on the side of a glass. We managed to make it to eighty before we lost interest, but it gave us a great opportunity to practice our Chinese.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The meal ended and we had to return to our building before the gate was locked, so we departed. While looking for a cab we learned that cabbies in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; don’t give rides to more than four people at once. We learned this when, after piling into the cab, the driver started waving his hands and screaming at us. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We eventually found someone to take us home. Rather he found us. I don’t think he was a cabbie. He didn’t have a sign, he didn’t have a meter. We got a flat rate, got in and went. And it was the wildest ride of my life.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This guy kept trying to talk to us, knowing full well that we didn’t speak well or much. He was twice as bad (or good, considering we’re still alive) a driver as the previous one, but he got us home a lot faster and cheaper. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We also learned that once the gate closes we have to climb the fence. All of a sudden I was eight again, but I was in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and was really twenty five. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513205841571576?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513205841571576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513205841571576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513205841571576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513205841571576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/81205-forbidden-city-is-perhaps.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513155344334584</id><published>2005-08-27T16:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T16:32:33.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date year="2005" day="9" month="8"&gt;8/9/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Bei Da (&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;North&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;University&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;) is located in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; (North Capital). This is where I am currently living. Ever heard of &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Nanjing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;? That’s the South Capital. Dongjing (Also known to some Chinese as &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Tokyo&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;)? The East Capital. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Bei Da University is serious as a heart attack. This is THE university for all of &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. Annually there over eight MILLION people take the university test. Only 2900 are accepted to Bei Da every year. To even get this far students have to pass a matriculated exam that doesn’t mess around. This exam is taken in high school and without it a student cannot go on through the educational system. If a student is sick on the day of the exam then he can cry about it but it won’t do any good. He still has to wait another full year to take it again.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I’m attending classes here. At the end of these two weeks I will have my TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) certificate from Bei Da University, recognized worldwide. Which means that I will be able to teach English as a foreign language anywhere in the world. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The more I learn about the written characters the more I love them. The character for ren (man), for instance, looks like an inverted “V”, or like legs. This character directly represents a person walking. Now if you were to put a horizontal line towards the top, like a lowercase “t” the character’s meaning changes from “person” to “big”. The horizontal line represents the sky, so the character for “big” is essentially a person who is so tall he passes above the sky.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Bei Da is short for Beijing Univerisity, or “&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;North&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt;  &lt;st1:placename&gt;Capital&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placename&gt;Big&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;School&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;”. So far I can recognize enough of the characters to know when I’m standing in front of a Bei Da building. Neat, huh?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I just finished a Chinese stout. Blue Diamond Stout Beer. “Blue Diamond Stout Beer is suitable for all seasons and all the people.” &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s not. It’s really, really not. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513155344334584?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513155344334584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513155344334584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513155344334584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513155344334584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/8905-bei-da-north-university-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513140770515591</id><published>2005-08-27T16:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T16:30:07.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>8/08/05</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="8" year="2005"&gt;8/8/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I found my Food Buddy last night. He lives down the hall from me and is just as excited about any foods as I am. We are usually the only ones who are adventurous about anything. &lt;/p&gt;         &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today we decided to have duck for lunch. We initially wanted something else, but it was hot and sticky, so Peking Duck sounded just as good as anything else. I had no idea exactly how complex the process was.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The duck arrived in a pan, golden and shiny. The cook presented it and then tore the head clean off. He then proceeded to skin the duck, peeling off small sheets of skin, which is supposedly the best part. It was rather good. The skin, the meat, cucumbers and various sauces were then rolled up into small wonton wraps before consumption. The head was brought out, split down the middle, with the head meat laid across the beak. &lt;/p&gt;         &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My food buddy and I shared the head meat and each grabbed a half by the beak. Unfortunately there wasn’t much meat in there, but I did find a small morsel to taste. Tucked in among the bone and beak of the duck was a small, lumpy piece of chewy good. And since I haven’t become sick yet I can only assume that duck’s brains won’t kill you. In fact, they taste pretty darn good.  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The rest of the duck was thrown into a very large stew. All in all the meal was wonderfully delicious and only cost us three US dollars apiece.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Class was still long (too long), dinner was still good (too good), I bought my first bootleg movies today (Eros, for Wong Kar Wai’s short) and I think I found my brand of beer.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last night I consumed Mellow Blue Lager. Think Miller only a little better. Think Tsingtsao but without the formaldehyde. Think a smooth, slightly fake lager and you’re on the right track. Now pretend it’s twenty two ounces and costs three yuan. As much as I enjoyed it I couldn’t not think about better beer and how much I love it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But tonight. Oh, yes. Tonight. I have found that better beer, right here in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;! Yanjin Pinapple beer. I followed this up with a slightly less tasty lemon beer which is currently on the nightstand as I sit on my bed, recalling my day. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Also, I know how to count. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513140770515591?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513140770515591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513140770515591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513140770515591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513140770515591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/80805_27.html' title='8/08/05'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112513104318183850</id><published>2005-08-27T16:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T16:24:03.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>8/08/05</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date month="8" day="8" year="2005"&gt;8/8/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I found my Food Buddy last night. He lives down the hall from me and is just as excited about any foods as I am. We are usually the only ones who are adventurous about anything. &lt;/p&gt;         &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today we decided to have duck for lunch. We initially wanted something else, but it was hot and sticky, so Peking Duck sounded just as good as anything else. I had no idea exactly how complex the process was.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The duck arrived in a pan, golden and shiny. The cook presented it and then tore the head clean off. He then proceeded to skin the duck, peeling off small sheets of skin, which is supposedly the best part. It was rather good. The skin, the meat, cucumbers and various sauces were then rolled up into small wonton wraps before consumption. The head was brought out, split down the middle, with the head meat laid across the beak. &lt;/p&gt;         &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My food buddy and I shared the head meat and each grabbed a half by the beak. Unfortunately there wasn’t much meat in there, but I did find a small morsel to taste. Tucked in among the bone and beak of the duck was a small, lumpy piece of chewy good. And since I haven’t become sick yet I can only assume that duck’s brains won’t kill you. In fact, they taste pretty darn good.  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The rest of the duck was thrown into a very large stew. All in all the meal was wonderfully delicious and only cost us three US dollars apiece.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Class was still long (too long), dinner was still good (too good), I bought my first bootleg movies today (Eros, for Wong Kar Wai’s short) and I think I found my brand of beer.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last night I consumed Mellow Blue Lager. Think Miller only a little better. Think Tsingtsao but without the formaldehyde. Think a smooth, slightly fake lager and you’re on the right track. Now pretend it’s twenty two ounces and costs three yuan. As much as I enjoyed it I couldn’t not think about better beer and how much I love it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But tonight. Oh, yes. Tonight. I have found that better beer, right here in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Beijing&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;! Yanjin Pinapple beer. I followed this up with a slightly less tasty lemon beer which is currently on the nightstand as I sit on my bed, recalling my day. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Also, I know how to count. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112513104318183850?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112513104318183850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112513104318183850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513104318183850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112513104318183850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/80805.html' title='8/08/05'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112512676129099401</id><published>2005-08-27T15:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T15:12:41.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>8/7/05</title><content type='html'>And we're back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:date year="2005" day="7" month="8"&gt;8/7/05&lt;/st1:date&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This morning we found a small place that was open early for breakfast. On the street out in front of the door is a constant stack of steamer trays. Step inside and walk across the cracked linoleum through the poorly ventilated room. Sit down at a card table and wait for your food. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A steamer tray arrives with ten baos in it. These particular baos are also known as “Little Dragon Buns”. And they are, individually, a tiny piece of heaven. Accompany this with a tea egg or three and breakfast is served.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tea eggs are perhaps my favorite discovery thus far. Have you ever hard boiled an egg? Replace the water with tea and you’re set. Boil the eggs for a long time and the flavor intensifies. This place always has eggs boiling. All day and all night. And they’re always fantastic. Always. &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Class continues to, oddly enough, have very little. Long, hot and gross, the TEFL classes continue to not help very much. Instead our time is not used well and we have very little time to actually prepare for tomorrow’s teaching.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But that’s okay because we’re still in &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. Afternoons are fast and fun. Exploration is key. While I have yet to gather the courage to venture out on my own I certainly am getting there.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I also bought a second bottle of wine. Perhaps I have yet to learn my lesson, but the label was simply too much. You’ll see it someday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112512676129099401?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112512676129099401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112512676129099401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112512676129099401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112512676129099401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/8705.html' title='8/7/05'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112418955618625339</id><published>2005-08-16T18:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-16T18:52:36.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay. Remember that stuff I just said? I lied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has got to be a better way than this. I'm not a fan of this place. Not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More as it develops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112418955618625339?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112418955618625339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112418955618625339' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112418955618625339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112418955618625339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/okay.html' title=''/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112418844042480189</id><published>2005-08-16T18:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-16T18:34:00.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>8/6/05</title><content type='html'>So there's a specific green tea in these here parts that I have fallen in love with. I have, in fact, fallen in love with many things here. For example, I love the Oolong tea but I have fallen in love with this green tea. I love the dry fried yellowtail but I have fallen in love with the salt and pepper shrimp.I wish I knew the name of this tea but I can't read Chinese, so I guess you're out of luck. But if I can actually find it in the US of A I will make sure that everyone I know drinks it. Because it is really that good. It has been noted, however, that Asian people don't drink it. Just me.  Yet.. it's everywhere. This can't simply be a trap for one gangly white guy. That's just not economical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember all those times I talked about my long GTEP hours? The nine hour days? The two beer lunch hours? I remember laughing and kicking my heels up once it was all over. My celebration came too early. Far too early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to catch a seven thirty bus, so we had to be up early. We then had a lecture from eight to one when we broke for lunch. This lecture then continued immediately after. This lecture was also a less thorough summation of everything I learned in GTEP but didn't tell us anything at all about teaching in China. The day itself was very disorganized, which  was worrisome, as WE ARE IN CHINA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made this more unbearable was the fact that there was no AC in a room with one hundred people in it, all breathing, all sweating, all hot and wet. No tolerance. None whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned something very, very important tonight. The Chinese can do so very much well but they certainly can't do wine. The woman at Parkson's even called it "very good", which makes me currently question her palate. I can only hope that I catch her in the window of the Pizza Hut instead of at a table at a place whose name I don't know because I can't read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(CULTURAL NOTE BECAUSE I HAVE THE BENEFIT OF HINDSIGHT:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have since seen other people drink this tea, not just white devils. Which did make me feel a little better. I have also since discovered a chrysanthemum green tea which is equally fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day was the Chinese equivilant of Valentine's Day. I saw couples seated at the Pizza Hut because it's the most expensive restaurant in town. Like, REALLY expensive. It made me a little sad, really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112418844042480189?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112418844042480189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112418844042480189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112418844042480189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112418844042480189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/8605.html' title='8/6/05'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112418797046355030</id><published>2005-08-16T18:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-16T18:26:10.470+08:00</updated><title type='text'>8/5/05 2:00 AM</title><content type='html'>So I think I've figured it all out. I've got the stuff off my computer and onto this one in the cafe. I'm going to begin with full entries for (Oh, man, some dude just spat on the floor and rubbed it in with his shoe) each day I have written. Pictures will come later if I can make it work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here it is. My first week in China. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was awakened this morning by what was quite possibly the most amazing lightning storm I have ever witnessed. The day had been hot and sticky, so the rain was more than welcome.Imagine that you have just stepped out of the shower. Instead of toweling off you decide to simply get dressed. That's how I feel every hour of every day. Hot, sticky and gross. Apparently it snows here in the winter. I may have to come back to see it, because I don't buy that for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lightning struck frequently and close, with many strikes hitting mere miles away. The one that pulled me to the window hit in the parking lot directly below our window. The room lit up and car alarms went off. It was gorgeous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The previous night was spent at the internet café and struggling with a little Mandarin. Okay, so she wasn't THAT short, but she certainly wasn’t tall. We were tired and worn through. Twelve hours on a plane will do that to you. Especially when all you get to watch are movies that are totally unnecessary. Miss Congeniality 2 is a movie that simply did not need to exist. I know this because I watched it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to the Summer Palace. It was here that I finally began to realize where I was and what I was doing. I was standing on a large plot of land. A plot with lakes and rivers. A plot covered with pagodas and temples. A plot that WAS ONCE SOMEONE'S HOUSE. Built with misappropriated funds, the Summer Palace was burned down during the second Opium War. But you wouldn’t know it to look at it. Rebuilt to a tee, this place is simply amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the best part? On a far away hill you can see a section of the wall. I got hit and got hit hard.And after this incredible experience? Know what I did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an Icy Mint Sprite. I don't recommend it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112418797046355030?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112418797046355030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112418797046355030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112418797046355030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112418797046355030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/8505-200-am.html' title='8/5/05 2:00 AM'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112367149545351251</id><published>2005-08-10T18:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T18:58:15.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Information Blackout.</title><content type='html'>So I have a lot to say but I can't really say it right now. Our internet isn't working, so I'm at the cafe again and I really don't want to be here. More will come. I'm keeping a record. Don't worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, there will be pictures. Lots of pictures. Everything is crazy and disorganized right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm loving every minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: I ate the brain of a duck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112367149545351251?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112367149545351251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112367149545351251' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112367149545351251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112367149545351251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/information-blackout.html' title='Information Blackout.'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112316282813601356</id><published>2005-08-04T21:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T21:40:28.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So. Bejing.</title><content type='html'>Where to begin? No, seriously, where?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long flight (12 hours) and two movies that have no reason to exist, after two terrible meals and no water when I really, really needed it, I have arrived in China.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The airport was madness and hot and muggy. So was the street. And the parking lot. The sky was cloudy and the air simply felt gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to our living locale only to find that the same was true here as well. Gross and sticky. I don't think tonight will be fun. Our air conditioner has two settings "Too Cool" and "Too Hot". But it is remote controlled!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit, down the street from the school. It's pushing ten o'clock my (new) time and it's still easily eighty degrees outside. And it's still humid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112316282813601356?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112316282813601356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112316282813601356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112316282813601356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112316282813601356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/so-bejing.html' title='So. Bejing.'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112257455215540841</id><published>2005-07-29T02:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-29T02:15:52.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>From a friend.</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine threw this picture together and I got all excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img193.imageshack.us/img193/9544/littlechina0jt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Heart Big Trouble and I Heart Navid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112257455215540841?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112257455215540841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112257455215540841' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112257455215540841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112257455215540841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/07/from-friend.html' title='From a friend.'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112242185715053896</id><published>2005-07-27T07:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T07:50:57.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'>T-MINUS 8 DAYS AND COUNTING</title><content type='html'>I have boxes. Plenty of boxes. I have books. I have texts. I have money. I have computer. I have motivation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This apartment will be clean and empty for the first time in six years. Six years I have resided here. Through good times and bad, through families and savages. That time will draw to a close as I fill boxes, sell goods and pare down my existence to something far more simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet? Complexity will surely continue to exist. Madness, my friends. Madness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112242185715053896?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112242185715053896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112242185715053896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112242185715053896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112242185715053896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/07/t-minus-8-days-and-counting.html' title='T-MINUS 8 DAYS AND COUNTING'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112165505777562971</id><published>2005-07-18T10:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T10:50:57.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shearing.</title><content type='html'>I cut my hair today. One step closer, one more preparation out of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been told by those in the program that hair of my length wouldn't be an issue, even though it would be for any of the teachers at my school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But.... wait. I'm a guest in their country. I'm a guest at that school. I am also an employee. Shouldn't I follow the same standards that they do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most importantly I am an abassador to my country and I will do my best to represent it properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T-MINUS: Seventeen days&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112165505777562971?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112165505777562971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112165505777562971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112165505777562971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112165505777562971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/07/shearing.html' title='Shearing.'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14500765.post-112138451215909092</id><published>2005-07-15T07:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T07:41:52.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If everything goes well....</title><content type='html'>If all goes well this will soon be the home of my adventures in China. I will be sure to update if something does indeed go horribly wrong (like I can't access this site from Shenzhen).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will always be a way to communicate, if not here then elsewhere. And all shall know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14500765-112138451215909092?l=ramonsabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112138451215909092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14500765&amp;postID=112138451215909092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112138451215909092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14500765/posts/default/112138451215909092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramonsabroad.blogspot.com/2005/07/if-everything-goes-well.html' title='If everything goes well....'/><author><name>Virgilio</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16336804433381110913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
