Wo yao caiden.

The program that is responsible for sending me to China has turned into an email-avoiding nightmare, almost over night. Long story short: a handful of us were told the second day we got into Chengdu that our visas are incorrect, and we must apply and pay for a new permit, all within four days, or suffer the consequences. The study abroad company dropped the ball and is refusing to make amends, or even admit to being in the wrong. 

Despite this, life goes on. Really, in China, one has no choice but to move forward. Upward, onward, newer, bigger, faster, flashier...China is constantly bursting at the seams. Even as centuries-old foundation crumbles, buildings are added on to, made "more appealing" to the consumer nation. This is as visually enticing as it is cringe-worthy.

I may have mentioned this in my last post, but Chengdu has this fascinating way of mixing nature and urban-development that I just can't get over. Roots push sidewalk tiles into warped patterns; vines replace paint on the sides of impossibly tall apartment complexes...there is very little conflict of elements in this wonderful city. Perhaps this is an ode to the Buddhist/Taoist principles that remain at the fingertips of modern Chinese, or maybe it is simply a yielding of struggle against time. Because even the fast-paced and forward-reaching Chinese proprietors know that we must all respect what is older and wiser. 

Regardless, I think am getting used to this. 



Yesterday for dinner, Anthony and I set out in search of something spicy and flavorful...and plentiful. We stumbled across a barbecue place that seemed promising. It was full of locals, both young adults ready for a summer night out and business workers dressed surprisingly formally for the heat. [ I just can't seem to adjust to this thick layer of smog and warm wetness that covers the city every day. Give me a few more weeks.] We managed, somehow, to order delicious spicy pork, potatoes, peppers, and ham-fried rice. Dinner for the two of us, including the popular Tsingtao, was roughly $5 American.

  The waitress/owner[?] was pleased when we told her, in Chinese, how delicious the food was. I can really only imagine how frustrating it must be for some wait-staff when foreigners come into their restaurants. Usually, they make very little effort in trying to order in Chinese. Not that I need to sound so high-and-mighty here; I am far from competent. Usually, I just end up making a lot of hand gestures and using very short, basic sentences, such as "niurou" [beef] and "lai yige ba" [I'll have that].

But our meal was perfect. The beer [Tsingtao, usually, or Snow] was the perfect lightness to wash down some of the tongue-numbing spiciness that I'm really becoming fond of. 

Afterwards we walked around a bit, enjoying the way the shops light up and the streets stay dark as the night moves on. You see, in the parts of Chengdu we are familiar with, there are no streetlamps or even stoplights for cars. At first I registered this as stupid and unsafe. But now I've come to realize that the drivers are skilled [in a frightening way] and the lack of lights on the sidewalks makes all the stores, shops, bars, and tea houses that much more alluring. I have always loved the culture in a city, especially the nightlife. Each one is different. Chengdu is like the ocean waves on a PNW beach: at some points, the sounds and sights rush right up to you, begging you to jump in and get lost, while other places are simply ebbing away, bubbling slightly up to make you wonder if it's always this calm, or only while the wind has died down.

I exchanged "nihao" for "hello" with a few of these young boys, running around a plaza playing 'soldier'.

 

  

 

Tomorrow I'm supposed to find out my classes, meet with professors, and buy textbooks. Saturday is a free day, and then Sunday I get my schedule. Fall semester begins on Monday, bright and early. My usual pre-quarter anxiety is at least doubled at the moment, and will probably rise as the next few days go by. But a funny thing about anxiety disorders: chaos is like another day in my mind. So while many people are dealing with a new-found sense of panic as the first day draws near, I am used to the feeling. Panic is my middle name. 


Take that as you will, I'm choosing to see the upside for now.