And they're off!

July 3 blog:

Temperature outside: 90+ F (and more humid than a sauna)
Words I know in Chinese: 2
Times I’ve already felt completely lost in translation: 30
What I’ve eaten: No idea. It had pork, rice, something green like squash, very dark mushrooms and bamboo in a light sauce. Also Bok Choy.

I feel like such a tourist. I guess having the journalist label gives me a bit of an excuse to have my camera out at all times. But taking pictures of the airplane or my first meal probably negates that alibi.

So, where do I begin? Apologies upfront for this first rambling mind-emptying. I promise (with fingers crossed behind my back) that subsequent posts will be shorter.

The plane ride was, in a word, long. But you knew that. 13+ hours of sitting, moving a little, sitting some more… at least the company was good since we knew each other. I was waiting for a chorus of “M-I-Z” to break out, but alas, we must be saving it for the ride home. I’ll not indulge on my state of wellness after such a turbulent trip, but I was definitely shades of green before all was done.

Just before leaving, a report was published stating the north pole may completely melt before winter arrives. While I don’t know that, I was shocked on the state of the north cap.

This was snapped on the farthest north we got, according to the flight screen onboard. At 30,000 ft, those holes looked bigger than the entire St. Louis metro area.

And no, I did not see any elves or reindeer.

Upon arrival, it was amazing to see the diverse sceneries of Beijing. Around the airport was very open, with farm lands and even a shepherd tending his flock along the highway. But as soon as you hit “downtown,” the buildings rise 30 stories and the traffic makes New York City rushhour look like a nice weekend drive. I know the majority of the country has only been driving for 2 years, but are there any regulations? The other bus went in reverse on the highway after missing the exit. Bigger is definitely better there.

<-- Traffic in the city

First look at the bird's nest and the Olympic Green -->

Am I homesick yet? No, but give me a day! The first thing we did, after a scavenger hunt of our room to find out what exactly we were dealing with, was turn on my laptop. Missing a day on the plane was definitely interesting. And I know many people back home were awaiting my safe arrival. I’m still learning where to draw the line. On one hand, this is an entirely new place and I want to become accustomed to the area. On the other, I want to call home and tell everyone how it is. Where is the line between cutting off the home front and keeping in touch?

I seriously need to learn more of the language. Last night for our first meal, we ventured to a campus cantina. It, of course, had no clue 60 Americans were headed that way (the deer-in-the-headlights look was evident). It also had no English (spoken or written) and no photos for food. Thank goodness for the volunteers from Renmin who are with us. Still not sure what I exactly ordered, but it was good and I kept the receipt to help out on future orders. Bamboo is an acquired taste I think, but the pork and other ingredients were very nice on my ill stomach.

Today we tried on our uniforms for volunteers. I must say, we will be noticed. Bright blue shirts, zip off pants, and even shoes that say “Beijing 2008” that I’ll probably wear out at home since they are totally cool. It was a humbling experience to say the least. In the US, I wear a size 8 or so and am pleased if I fit into my 6 skinny-jeans. Here, I was lucky fitting into the larges and for my uniform ordered an XL! At least the shirt was still a medium. I don’t think they realized we Westerners have big feet either. The boxes were from 3.5 to 6 UK (so going up to about size 8 US).My 9 ½ feet weren’t going to be happy with that, and my roommate’s 11s were hopeless. They eventually got larger sizes in to try (I think from the guy’s room).

The main notice in our new home is definitely the language difference. In Spain or France, we could at least stumble along and do decently well. Here, we’ve become mimes. Charades has nothing on us. At least for lunch at a buffet we could point at what we wanted. But I feel like the naive tourists who expects everyone to speak their language. Hopefully I can bug our volunteer friends some more and get at least a little lesson (counting to ten would help). Until then, smiles and a clueless look go a long way.