2007-07-19 - 2:35 p.m.

Hey peeps- Not sure who my "peeps" are,(who read this anyway) but I shall continue... I don't write much on my site anymore and it makes me a little sad. I suppose it means that China has lost its luster. But I am trying every day to remember that it is still a foreign country and I am still very much a foreigner, and I am trying to remember that all these cultural differences are not pushing me to the brink of insanity but are in fact still quite humorous and worthy of reporting to y'all on Diaryland.... I have ONCE AGAIN signed up for Chinese lessons. Back to square one. Lesson one. This time the teacher said, "Oh you are so clever!" I didn't tell her I've attempted Chinese lessons many times before. But at least I finally have mastered the basics. I feel some sort of breakthrough coming. I actually understand the words coming out of her mouth- if she speaks slow enough.Funny, I know I said that about 2 years ago on this very blog. Don't know if I should laugh or cry.... So now let's move on to another topic- food poisoning. I've had it many times before in China and each time it feels like an alien baby is churning inside my intestines. It's awful. I cried like an itty bitty baby for 24 solid hours. I would have about 10 alien babies if I could somehow collect them and keep them. Not that I would want 10 alien babies... And the sad thing about having gut rot in China and being me is that I am a baby and I want sympathy. I am not tough. I cry and I want someone to pat my head. So yesterday, between all the disgusting bodily functions, I called my husband (I love saying that-husband) no less than 15 times to tell him about my lack of bowel control (groooosssss) and about how I desperately needed him to come home and take care of me. He's so sweet. So sweet that he answered the phone after the 4th and 5th times. I think I would have turned my phone off. He brought me medicine and made me feel better, and he even patted my head. What a good hubby.
Another random story- I still love Chinese fashion and it hasn't changed at all since I last reported that anything goes. My Chinese teacher had on a pink floral skirt, with a totally clashing different pink color/floral shirt which was covered with little pearls in the middle of each flower- and then over that shirt she had a white croqueted little short-sleeved sweater which was covered in silver sequins. And a ponytail on top of her head with a big orange schrunchie or whatever they are called. I didn't see what kind of shoes she had on. But she rules. I missed the first half of the lesson because of her choice of clothing. The Chinese remind me that clothes don't make the person. It's easy to forget that in the States. Honestly. (I think I've said this before...) Before I moved to China, I would never consider wearing the same pants or shirt to work (teaching school) 2 days in a row. Outside of work- sure...But I'm trying to remember why I wouldn't do it at work. Maybe there was some sort of unwritten professional ethic that led me to believe that this practice wasn't okay. Maybe it was the other catty teachers who made fun of my clothes in the first place. Maybe I thought- at least they can't make of my clothes for being dirty.... But why? If the clothes are still clean, who cares, right? Well, I love China because no one cares. At all. Actually that might be a totally false statement. Maybe people care but the cultural and language barrier prevents me from understanding this disaproval of repeated wearings of clothing. But whatever the case, I love living in China for this reason. And I have seen many people in my neighborhood or at work who wear the exact same get-up for days at a time. So I think my theory ("wear it for days=good") holds true. It's all good here. Whatever floats yer boat. I like that. America, take note. Wearing the same clothes can save people time, money, and the unneeded stress that accompanies figuring out what to wear (especially for women.) I only think we should change clothes when they are really dirty or reek real bad. And that's all I have to say. Love, Julie

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