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When forced to travel by train for 32 hours in a hard seat, it is necessary to have a strategy. A strategy for comfort, a strategy for boredom, and a strategy for sanity. Step one is to make friends with your neighbors so that they help you with your bags and give you snacks, and will make sure that no one takes your seat when you get up to use the bathroom. My strategy for making friends was being as helpless and incompetent as possible. My seatmeat was a young girl who worked in a factory in Shanghai and was traveling to her hometown in Xi’an (a 22 hour ride for her). I was pleased that she was small, friendly and quiet. Across the aisle was a Muslim woman with two small daugthers. Another plus, women are more friendly, motherly, and don’t smoke. Directly across from me were two male youths, who were sharing one seat, switching places to stand every hour or so. In the other seat across from me was a woman who promptly put her head down on the table and didn’t speak to anyone. (Here I should mention that the train had three seats on one side of the aisle, two seats on the other, the seats facing each other with a small table in the center). I zeroed in on the youths and the factory girl for being my most likely comrades. They helped me shove my humongous bicycle bag under the seat, when I made a rather realistic show of being unsure where to put it. I also told them it was my first time in a hard seat, and they did small things to make sure I was comfortable, such as giving me the window seat (my ticket was originally for the aisle seat) and giving me the most room to lay my head down on the table. They also shared their snacks of peaches and sunflower seeds, and I in turn shared my wet wipes, and gave up my seat from time to time so both of the youths could eat sitting down when they were ready for a meal. Give a little, get a little, that is always the moto for train rides in China.

The other strategy is managing your time. When to eat, when to use the bathroom, when to read, when to sleep. As using the bathroom was such an ordeal (since you had to fight your way through the crowds with standing only tickets blocking the aisle), I drank water on a timetable so I would only have to get up to use the bathroom a maximum of five times. Sleep of course was impossible, so instead I had to doze or meditate. I had two iPods with me, one borrowed from a friend, so I could tune everything out for the entire train ride without worrying about battery life. My strategy for staying sane was to go into a zenlike trance, keeping my head down and my earpods in to keep the sight and sound of the craziness around me at bay. My boss at the Consulate, upon hearing of my insane train ride, had also given me a gift of minty oil that was supposed to be used for alleviating headaches, but worked like a charm for masking the smell of unwashed masses. I applied it to my wrists and temples about ten times during the ride, and it worked for the most part to help me forget that the train car I was in was just a few degrees better than a chattel car. I made it through the night, which I rightfully reckoned would be the hardest part, and spent the next day reading my kindle. Andy called a few times and told me with surprise that I sounded chipper. I probably was just spaced out. In the last few hours of the train ride, I felt that I could re-engage with the world, and took my earpods out to walk up and down the aisle (as best as I could) and converse with people. I got up, and tried to wake up my sleeping feet. I looked down at my ankles and nearly screamed in horror. My feet and ankles had swollen to nearly three times their regular size! If you had seen just my feet, you might have thought I was a three hundred pound woman. I had some serious cankles. Really freaked out, I called Andy, who did an Internet search and told me it was a symptom of dehydration, and that I should drink more water and do some ankle exercises. I did, but they didn’t return to normal for another day. But, in the end I survived the 32 hour train ride with my sanity and most of my body parts intact!

Six hours later I picked up Andy’s dad and his dad’s girlfriend from the airport, and 12 hours and 130 km later I exhaustedly but happily wrapped my arms around Andy in a small town called Gonghe, from whence we would start our bike adventure the next day!

(And in case you were wondering, I went ahead and spent two thousand kuai on a flight back to Shanghai, there is no way that I would ever, ever, ever, do that train ride again! You only need so much character-building exercises in your life)

I am writing this blog on my iPod Touch, sitting in a Tibetan restaurant in a dingy town called Gangcha, which lies on the Northern side of Qinghai lake about 180 km from Xining, the provincial capital of Qinghai. As I take alternate bites of yak milk yogurt sweetened with local honey and yak meat dumplings, washed down with occasional sips of salty yak milk tea, I can’t help but think on the vast difference of my experiences in these past six days compared to the ten weeks of my luxurious summer interning at the Consulate in Shanghai. I cannot fathom a more disparate contrast from sipping mojitos by the Shanghai Portman Ritz Carlton’s rooftop pool one day, to camping in the cold on a vast mountain plain surrounded by yaks, sheep, and horses while surviving on a diet of trail mix the next day. But I get ahead of myself.

August 6 was the last day of my internship, which I greeted happily, not because I didn’t like my experience, but because I was pleased at completing a fun and meaningful internship and anxious to go on to do other fun and meaningful things, such as go see Andy in Qinghai, and following that go back to DC to see friends and family and start my last year of grad school.

Aside from my three weeks motorcycling around Yunan in May, I had only seen Andy one other time this summer, when he came to surprise me in Shanghai at the end of June. He was there only for the weekend, and had to return to biking immediately. I wanted to visit him in Chengdu later in July, but money, time, and work commitments precluded that possibility. Thus the last chance I’d have to see Andy before his return to the states in October would be to visit him on the Tibetan plateau after I finished my internship.

That in itself was fine with me. In addition to wanting to see Andy, I was excited about going to Qinghai, a place I had never been but which I have heard is very beautiful this time of year.  Andy’s pictures on his website certainly corroborate this fact, and I was more than happy at the prospect of experiencing a new place first hand. However, as Andy and I began planning my visit, several factors filled me with trepidation, and for about two seconds I contemplated calling Andy with tearful apologies telling him I was not going to go visit him in Qinghai and that I  would see him back in the States in three months time.

What was so awful that I would forgo visiting my boyfriend, who I’ve seen for a grand total of 20 some days this entire year?
The first cause for concern was getting to Qinghai. After looking at flight prices, I decided that if I wanted to be able to pay rent when I got back home, I’d have to take the train, which would be a 32 hour ordeal one way. Not ideal, but certainly not horrible as Andy and I had frequently taken a 24 hour train to see each other when I lived in Shenzhen and he lived in Beijing. But there was yet another catch. Buying train tickets in China is notoriously difficult, and with the Shanghai Expo going on, train tickets to and out of Shanghai is even more difficult than normal. You can only purchase tickets ten days in advance and they can get sold out in a matter of minutes. I recruited the consulate’s inhouse travel service to help me purchase a sleeper ticket (hard sleeper or soft sleeper, it didn’t matter, as long as I had a bed!). However, she failed me miserably. Long story short, the only train ticket available was a hard seat ticket. I know that won’t mean anything to most of my readers, but a hard seat ticket on a Chinese train is the kiss of death. You are basically on a hard bench sitting at a 90 degree angle, in an overcrowded car with little to no ventilation and one bathroom for fifty people, most of whom are hygenically challenged. Worse, the train company also sells standing tickets, so you can’t even navigate the aisles to get to the bathroom without a concerted effort due to the masses of people standing in the aisles, and when you get back someone is inevitably sitting in your seat and you have to shoo them out. All in all, a hard seat is an instument of torture. Especially when the train ride is 32 hours long. But it was the only option I had to see Andy.

But that wasn’t the only cause for concern. As Andy only has a month left to get back to Beijing before his visa expires, it wasn’t possible for him to take off a few days of riding to spend time with me. The only solution? I would have to ride with them. I could not afford to buy another motorcycle and ditch it at the end like I had done in Yunan, so this time I would actually be using my own legs to pedal with them on a borrowed fold-up bicycle, like the kind I have in DC. Here lay the other cause for concern. How would my out-of-shape body on a crappy small bicycle be able to keep up with two boys on professional touring bikes who have been biking around china for eleven months? Granted, Andy’s dad and his dad’s girlfriend would be joining at the same time (We arranged it so that I would pick them up from the Xining airport they day I arrived, and we would travel together to the small town Andy was in the next day) and they would also have some disadvantages when it came to biking (jet lag, unaccustomed to the food, altitude issues), but I still felt massively under-prepared and that I would be the weakest link slowing everyone down.

Yet there was more cause for concern:  Qinghai is a big province, and there are vast stretches where there are no people, no places to eat, and no places to stay. Therefore, camping is a necesity, and I would have to be prepared to camp regularly without bathing for days, without regular hot meals, and this on top of being tired and sweaty from biking all day.

It gets worse. We’d be camping in the cold, possibly in close to freezing temperatures. On the Tibetan plateau it is comfortably cool in the day time, miserably cold at night. Worse for me since I can’t stand the cold, probably due to my subtropical blood. I also have no fondness for camping unless s’mores and bonfires are involved, and I detest being unclean… This whole trip was not shaping up to be my cup of tea.

But it doesn’t stop there! Several days before departing Andy’s mom sent me a very concerned email asking if I would be able to find dog whistles ( the kind that repels dogs not attracts them) in Shanghai, saying she was concerned about Andy’s blog post describing the dangers of wild dogs. I hadn’t read the blog in question and thought she was overeacting as mothers are wont to do, and replied that I would look, but was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to find any in stores. I then read Andy’s blog describing how they had been attacked by mastiffs and had to carry large sticks on their person to defend themselves from dog attacks while they were biking. On top of the 32 hour train ride, the camping, the uncleanliness, the cold, and the exhaustion, I now had to worry about being mauled by ferocious dogs, worse ferocious rabid dogs. Rabies treatment requires a ton of shots, and I hate needles! So I went to work that day, petitioning two of my coworkers to search Taobao, the Chinese eBay, for ultra sonic dog repellants and use their account to buy me two. Luckily, Taobao had it (there is a saying that if you can’t find what you want on Taobao, it doesn’t exist) and they were delivered the day before I was scheduled to leave.

As you can imagine, the whole trip sounded daunting, uncomfortable, dangerous, and unfun. However, I knew in my heart that I just simply could NOT see Andy, so I had no choice but to go on this crazy adventure. I also know that I am a woman of substance that can withstand anything, and that the trip would only be as bad as I made it, or as good as I made it. So I decided to go for the good.  With lots of goodluck wishes, a giant folding bike in one arm, a backpack of cold weather camping gear, and a bag full of food and water, I made my way onto the train to begin my Qinghai biking adventure.

On Thursday, my housemate and I were relocated for the third time this summer to accomodate transferring employees. Instead of staying in the single-family home compound way out in the middle of nowhere and far from everything as we were before, this time we were moved to the centrally located, modern, nicely-furnished and super convenient serviced apartments at the Ritz Carlton. I was ecstatic for a number of reasons. One, it is a two-minute elevator commute and 30 second walk from my office, meaning I no longer have to get up at 6:00 am to catch the 7:00 am shuttle everyday, and no longer have to spend 1.5 hours a day commuting. 2) We are centrally located, meaning closer to everything…grocery stores, banks, restaurants, bars…you name it. Best of all, I’m a 12 kuai cab ride from my friends’ houses, which makes meeting up and going out a piece of cake. 3) The apartment itself is pretty sweet. It’s clean, big, and modern. Plus it’s a Ritz Carlton, so the bedding and towels are delightfully luxurious. I now have down covers and feather pillows instead of a hospital-bed like blanket and lumpy pillows, probably my most favorite thing about this new place. 4) I take that back, the most fabulous thing is the health club. We have free access to the really nice gym, indoor and outdoor pools, jacuzzi, and sauna, all a short two minutes away from my room. It is basically the nicest, most convenient, most luxurious place I have ever lived in my life.

That being the case, my first weekend there felt like a vacation. I completely forgot that I was in China, which was easy to do considering  the weather this week has also been abnormally spectacular: blue skies, puffy clouds, sunny, balmy…not your usual China fare.

My living in luxury weekend began Friday night. It was my new friend Michelle’s 25th birthday (my good friend Pete’s roommate), and she had an extravagant night planned. (Her father owns the biggest modeling agency in China. Needless to say, she is a very well-connected person when it comes to hotels, bars, clubs, fashion boutiques, and basically any high-end fashionable place). We first had dinner in a private room at the Tang Dynasty, a very fancy Hunanese restaurant in the Mirae Asset Building. The Westerners were outnumbered by the Chinese, so we were at their mercy when it came to ordering. Aside from a dish of pig tongue, all the dishes proved to be delectable. After that, we went across the street to another Ritz Carlton and headed up to the 58th floor to Flair Bar, which is touted as Shanghai’s highest outdoor restaurant and bar. Whether or not that is still true (there are certainly much higher buildings these days), the view is still undeniably spectacular. Overlooking the Huangpu River, the vantage point from our outdoor VIP seats (thanks to Michelle’s connections) offered us a breathtaking view of the Bund and iconic Pearl Tower. The air that night was crystal clear, a rare occurence in Shanghai, and the amount of detail and distance you could see was frankly a little trippy when you are used to having your vision obscured with a veil of haze. I felt like Plato’s caveman, emerging from the darkness of a fictitious reality to see the true form of reality in the light of day. Okay, maybe I’m being a bit too dramatic, but clean air is something that I’ve come to value more than any material object, and it can have such a dramatic impact on my mood and state of mind. But, back to the night itself, we had a wonderful time on the rooftop enjoying the view and drinking Moet (like I said, it was a luxurious night).

The next day was even better. Still balmy, sunny and blue, I invited Pete and another friend over to enjoy the sunshine by my new rooftop pool. We spent exactly 6 hours chilling by the pool, drinking mojitos, and swimming. Pete and I also enjoyed a cigar each, and then afterward had a Western dinner at Element Fresh. I confessed to Pete that I felt a little guilty having such an idle, conspicuous consumption day, and he said that most people work really hard all their lives to be able to have a life like this, and then either do not have the time or are too old to actually enjoy the fruits of their labours. Bottom line, he said, is to enjoy the good things in life when you actually have the chance to enjoy them. Guilt or not, it was a really fun time.

Sunday also proved to be above average. I met up with a friend and we went to the clothing market to have some clothese made. I wanted to fix a pair of pants and have a cashmere blend winter coat made (I haven’t had a new winter coat in a while, figured it would be cheaper to get one here). So we spent a couple hours there picking out fabrics and designs, and afterward went out for a very hygenically questionable Chinese lunch (It was a hole-in-the-wall place, and we half-expected to be incapacitated in a few hours, luckily that was not the case). We then headed back over to the Bund to a restaurant/bar called M on the Bund for an afternoon classical music concert. Every last Sunday of the month, M on the Bund hosts a music lovers performance. Tickets for students are only 10 kuai, so we couldn’t afford NOT to miss it. The programme consisted of two Haydn! opuses (Op. 77, “Lobkowitz” and Op. 76, “Fifths”), and was performed by a string quarter from the Shanghai Chamber Music. It was beautiful. I forgot how much I love classical music! After that, my friend and I decided to go back to the Portman pool. It was already evening, so we thought the hot tub jacuzzi would be a better place to hang out. Oddly enough, the Jacuzzi is not outdoors near the pool, but inside the ladies locker room, in a room next to the saunas. As we were both female, it didnt matter, but if you were ever trying to have a co-ed jacuzzi party, that wouldn’t work out too well. We ended up spending close to three hours hanging in the jacuzzi (and out, and partly in, when it got too hot), just chatting. We had the place mostly to ourselves (occasionally someone would walk in to use the sauna, unfortunately ruining our view by walking around butt-naked, as Chinese women are wont to do in a public locker room), but all in all, it felt like our own private jacuzzi.

In the words of many a rap artist, we were balling!

For the first month of my internship, the focus of my work and energy was almost entirely dedicated to National Day events. What is National Day you might ask? At the 2010 Expo, every country pavilion has an assigned “National Day,” usually on or around the individual country’s national or independence day, on which day the country in question has the opportunity to host special cultural performances/events dedicated to showcasing their pavilion with the blessing and assistance of the Expo Bureau. The USA National Day was on July 2nd (not July 4th, which is why we couldn’t refer to the holiday as “Fourth of July” as we usually do in the States). However, to Consulate staff, the term “National Day” did not represent just one day, but was used to refer to the entire Fourth of July weekend, during which several outreach programs and events were planned. There were three big invite-based events planned for actual National Day (July 2), two outreach programs planned for July 3rd, and two cultural performance planned for July 4th, in addition to related programs scheduled earlier in the week. Needless to say, National Day(s) was a big deal, and took up 95% of our energy during our first five weeks on the job. The services of the three interns in the Public Affairs Section (and most of the rest of consulate staff) were divided as equally as possible among these different programs and events. I was assigned to work two major events that weekend, the Evening Concert on July 2 -featuring Harry Connick, Jr., Miss USA, and the USC Marching Band- and a cultural outreach program on July 3rd featuring the opera soprano Angela Brown and the famed concert pianist David Wolff. I was also given the special, unenviable assignment of being the RSVP Coordinator for the Harry Connick Jr. Evening concert. At 1800 invitees (the number of seats available in the concert hall), this program was the largest invite-based event ever organized by the Consulate. And guess who was responsible for managing the invitation list…me!

I don’t think I really understood what a monumental task it was when it was first assigned to me, and the details of my responsibilities would probably bore readers. To sum up, I was in charge of first designing the invitations (not just the concert invitations, but the other two July 2 events as well), designing the wording, creating the maps to go on the invitations, working with a graphics design vendor to get the invitations made and printed, distributing the invitations to different sections, collecting RSVP name lists from the various sections, monitoring and tracking the ever changing RSVP lists submitted by the different sections, organizing a ticket will-call, and answering the same questions over and over again about sections wanting more tickets. An 1800-person name list is a very difficult thing to manage. But, I did it, and the concert was great! We had a full house, Harry Connick Jr. -who I have to admit I did not know who he was at first- gave an excellent performance, even though I felt that Miss USA could have been more prepared and less cheesy in her MCing duties.

Harry Connick, Jr.

The opera concert the next day, featuring the magnificently diva-liscious Angela Brown, was also a fantastic event, and much less stressful for me. I basically only had two things to do in the weeks before, create a save the date attachment to be sent out in an email blast, and design the program (which I am very proud of). I was relieved of pick up duty on the day of the concert, so I thought that I would have no duties except to be present and on-call. Well, two hours before I was supposed to arrive at the venue, I get a call from my boss saying that we had no one to introduce Angela, and he asked  if I would mind giving a 1-2 minute bi-lingual introduction. I say no problem, and get to work drafting an introduction in Chinese and English. The rest of the afternoon I spent sitting in the the theater rehearsing my lines, and doing odd jobs. Nothing stressful, I am prepared. Finally, the moment of truth arrives, and I mount the stage to give my introduction. I begin my welcome enthusiastically, and dive into my well-prepared speech for a full 20 seconds before someone yells “We can’t hear you!” The microphone was on, but malfunctioning, and was not picking up my voice. Whoops! After banging the microphone a few times, it begins to work, and I complete my introduction, a little chagrined that the first half got lost due to malfunctioning tech. It happens. I then get to sit down and enjoy the show with no further duties. It is nice not to have responsibility!

Soprano Angela Brown

The next day, I finally get the day off. I have plans to go to a BBQ at a friend’s house. I decided that my contribution to actual Fourth of July will be to make apple pie from scratch. I end up making 3 apple pies. They were delicious. We ate them with ice cream, and even I had to pat myself on the back, especially considering the fact that I had rolled out my home-made pie crust with a water bottle (gotta make do with what you have!).

All in all, Fourth of July (or National Day weekend as I should say), was busy, but fun. And to top it off, since I worked extra over the weekend, I get comp time, which I am currently enjoying with a 3.5 day weekend as I write this! Good life.

For the first month of my internship I went to the Expo over a dozen times, but inevitably always had to make a beeline straight to the USA Pavilion and straight out for site visits and meetings, without getting a chance to visit any of the other pavilions. However, that changed a couple weeks ago, when in preparation for writing cables (reports) to get sent to Washington, my supervisor organized a half-day tour to visit four of the most popular country pavilions in the Expo Park: South Korea, Japan, Germany, and Saudi Arabia. When I say that these are among the most popular pavilions, that assessment is based on reviews by Chinese internet and media portals that have labeled them “hot” pavilions, and as a consequence of their popularity, the lines for entry are insanely long, averaging about a three hour wait time for the OECD countries, and 6 hours for Saudia Arabia. These wait times are all the more ridiculous when you think about the fact that these pavilions aren’t thrilling coaster rides, but self-serving, museum-like exhibits showcasing nationalistic pride, which takes no more than 30 minutes to walk through. But, for many Chinese who don’t have the permission, time, or funds to travel, these pavilions are a chance to “visit” other countries first-hand, and many are willing to endure the long lines and harsh heat simply for the chance to have a 30 minute glimpse of what these countries are like.

We on the other hand, are very important, very connected government officials that are so very very important (did I mention how important we are?), and therefore were lucky enough (I mean were absolutely entitled to) skip the lines and go through the VIP entrance, often with our own private guide to explain the pavilion and show us around. There is a reciprocity agreement among employees of the different pavilions that those with work passes immediately get to skip the lines. Great for us, but something that really should not be abused, given the long lines most people must endure.

In any case, as our visit was work related, and not for our own private amusement, so I felt a little better about having an unfair entry advantage, and was even more pleased to be a VIP when we got free cake and wine at the German pavilion.

Germany was our first pavilion, and we were wowed by the interactive nature of all the displays. Rather than bore you with details, I’ll include links to pavilion reviews. ( Germany: http://www.expo2010-germany.com/en/fun/german-pavilion/about-balancity/) The Chinese loved the opportunity to take photos with various backgrounds at the Germany Pavilion, something that I think Japan failed miserably with its no photo rule (which everyone ignored anyway). I was disappointed with Japan, as I think they left out so much (where was the gaming, the nintendo, the geishas, the anime?), and their robots didn’t dance. (Japan: http://www.expo-japan.jp/en/exhibition/) The two robots on display included a nanny-bot that just waved, and another that came out for two minutes to play the violin, and then left the stage. I really wanted to see some dancing bots a la Beck’s music video. Also, their live performance was really strange. They claimed it was a traditional Noh performance (with a sequencein the beginning of them rolling around on stage in their futuristic personal cars, which was cool), but actually, it was kunqu, traditional Chinese opera! It wasn’t Japanese at all, as they were even singing in Chinese! All a bit disappointing. South Korea had a very cute video/live performance that was studded with famous Korean popstars and actors, which made more than a few Chinese girls squeal in delight. It was very cutesy, but memorable (Korea: http://en.expo2010.cn/c/en_gj_tpl_33.htm)  Saudi Arabia had the most stunning design of all. Shaped like a large boat with an oasis on top, Saudi Arabia boasts the largest IMAX presentation in the world. Visitors are guided in and step onto a moving platform, where they stand in place for the next twenty minutes as the moving walkway bridge  takes them through the 360 degree IMAX presentation which makes you feel like you have an omniscient view as you soar through a desert, over a crowded market, over an oil field, etc, all while you listen to ethereal music. (Saudi Arabia: http://en.expo2010.cn/c/en_gj_tpl_35.htm) It was very cool for the first ten minutes, and then you realize that you are just standing in place, and just watching a random video with random scenes to

random music. You don’t actually get any real understanding of Saudi Arabia, and the IMAX presentation is ALL there is, nothing else. In all, a bit disappointing, especially when your expectations were set so high.

But, these are just my criticisms. As a foreigner who actually has gotten to travel, the displays don’t do much for me. But for the average Chinese, these pavilions are a stunning eye-opener at what the rest of the world has to offer.

One of the fabulous perks of working in a government industry is all the comp tickets to various performances, openings, and galas that get sent to our office on pretty much a daily basis. Of course the seasoned veterans very rarely have any interest in going, but we fresh-faced interns snap up comps like m&ms (or skittles in my case, since I don’t like m&ms). Last night we experienced our first comped event, the Shanghai International Film Festival Opening Ceremony. Notified a mere day before, I was ambivalent about going, but was told by my supervisor that it would be fun, so I decided to go. The invitation e-mail stated dress code as “dark suit,” so I donned a cocktail dress for the evening. We really had no advance information about the event at all, so we were really surprised on arrival to find huge crowds around the Shanghai theater, police barricades, barrages of reporters, and a Hollywood style Red Carpet entrance. Hmm, this might be a bigger deal than we thought. After fighting through the throngs of spectators to get to the police barricades, and then presenting my ticket to get into the roped off area, I found myself adjacent to another roped off red carpet area, where Chinese celebrities in ball gowns and tuxedos were sashaying in front of reporters and photographers. I decided that I would have a better view of them if I went in to the mezzanine first and watched them come in one by one to sit. Now, I am relatively knowledgeable about Chinese celebrities compared to the average American, but by no means an expert. However, I did recognize a few big names, including Wang Lihong (Chinese pop star sensation, who was in an atrocious outfit, but still looked cute), Chen Kaige (Director of Farewell My Concubine), Jet Li (everyone knows who he is) and John Woo (Director of famous Hollywood films like Mission Impossible). Also in attendance were a lot of important governmental head honchos, including both the Mayor and Vice-Mayor of Shanghai -pretty big deals.

My fellow intern Brittany and I had fun doing Joan Rivers-style commentary on the various outfits worn by the Chinese celebrities. Chinese actresses must have some sort of rule that they all must wear copious amounts of glitter at any red carpet event. There were sparkles galore. I also think it is tacky for anyone to answer a cellphone while walking down a red carpet, which is what a few wives of foreign film directors did. Shame on them. Also interesting was the diverse levels of dressiness within the audience. The stars of course were decked out in their finest couture, but within the audience of us regular people, there was everything from evening wear, to cocktail dresses, to business casual, to jeans and t-shirts! If this were a Hollywood premier, those in jeans (unless they are super expensive designer jeans) would have been denied entrance. It was an odd juxtaposition.

Also interesting was the level of government involvement. Of course all culture-related activity in China is controlled by the Ministry of Culture, and hence government presence is unsurprising. Still, wouldn’t it be odd if at the Oscars the Mayor of LA made introductory remarks about how the film industry advances the United States’ development, progress, and international standing? And wouldn’t it be odd if protocol dictated that government bureaucrats give rambling speeches at the beginning, and be the ones to physically hand over the awards to the winners? I would think so.

Speaking of this last arrangement and its oddness, a hilarious moment did occur. The first person being honored that night was a French film-maker named Luc Besson. His name was announced, and he promptly mounted stage left just as a group of ballerinas came swirling in artistically and struck a pose with the award (a small statue) held aloft on stage right. Monsieur Besson, unsure of what to do, jokingly mimics the ballerinas’ movement and prances over to them on stage right with the intention of taking the still-held-aloft award. He reaches toward the ballerina to accept the award, but she doesn’t let go of it to let him take it. At that point, one of the government bureaucrats had been announced and was on stage left. Without a further glance at Mr. Besson, the ballerinas run past Besson and hand over the award to the government bureaucrat, leaving Besson standing on stage right. The Chinese emcees try to cover this awkward moment by complimenting Besson’s dancing prowess, and eventually the confused director makes it back to stage left to accept his award, which is handed to him by the bureaucrat. Way too complicated if you ask me, but it did make for some hilarity!

Next came a series of clips of all the films premiering this coming week. Some of them did look quite intriguing, including the Chinese film “Deep in the Clouds,” and the Iranian film “Pay Back” Perhaps more tickets will become available to check them out!

Unfortunately, the closing performance just devolved into weirdness. Showcasing performances from a “variety of cultures,” the audience was subjected to a bizarre series of two minute dances from Africa, Hungary, and India, and then closed with random foreigners lip-syncing to a Chinese song, including an African rapper that looked like he time-warped from the 1980s, and three other racially-indeterminate females (two were white, one was black, who knows who they were). It wouldn’t have been so terribly awful if it weren’t so obvious that they were lip-syncing. Ah well, it’s China! We left the theater happy that we got to see some celebrities, and an idea of some cool movies worth watching.

Yesterday was the two-week anniversary of my arrival in Shanghai. I would have loved to blog more during that two week period, but 1) I was kept really busy (10 hour work day, plus 2 hours of Chinese class twice a week), and 2) I was not entirely sure what I am allowed to say on a public forum, and what I am not. However, at our recent intern orientation (which was belatedly held until all the interns arrived), I received official confirmation that I don’t have to keep my job or my position a secret. Also, as I am in the Public Affairs Section, none of what I am doing is confidential, so I am free to give positive descriptions of my work and job-related activities provided that it advances and not detracts from the USG’s mission to promote greater understanding of U.S. values and views.

That being said, I now feel free to give you a general description of the past two weeks. My overall opinion of my internship so far has been extremely positive. I like the people, I am in a section that is right up my alley, and I have been able to use a lot of the skills I developed during my time with the Nederlanders. My primary job duties fall under the umbrella of event management, logistics, and hosting official visitors. One of my first assignments was to assist with a visit from Al Gore, who was visiting the Expo for green-tech related reasons. This was simply a “watch, follow, and learn” action for me, and it was very enlightening to see the process and detail that goes into planning a simple two hour visit. I think I spent five hours of my life in meetings, discussions, reviews, and revisions of the luncheon seating chart alone (and there were only 16 people dining!). Of course these things are very important, but I imagine that I would never want to apply for a job in the protocol office, as the planning is tedious, nitpicky, stressful, and really not at all that enjoyable from my perspective. But, it was fun to see Al Gore in person, and the staff was able to take a picture with him, and I did get a comprehensive look at behind-the-scenes life at the USA Pavilion. As learning experiences go, this one was a good experience, even though I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was fun or thrilling.

In addition to that visit, which required me to be at the Pavilion (and away from my office) for three days in a row, I -along with half of all consulate staff- are in def com planning mode for USA National Day at the World Expo. Every country at the expo has an assigned National Day, which usually coincides with each country’s respective Independence Day (or equivalent). USA National Day is July 2, and there will be several invitation-based events that day, along with off-site (i.e. not on expo grounds) activities and events throughout that entire weekend. Each event has been tasked to certain teams who are then responsible for organizing and executing it. Not only have I been assigned to work two events that weekend, but I have been given several mammoth tasks as well, including managing the 2500 person RSVP list for an evening concert, and conceptually designing and generating content for the invitations to the three invite-based events on the 2nd. Luckily, I did not have to physically design the invitations (we outsource that work to a vendor), but I did have to come up with the concept. I came up with three pretty good ideas, and have been in the room in which other people have said positive things about the designs, but to my chagrin, I don’t actually get the credit for it, which irks me greatly for some reason. I suppose I am used to being in the private sector where individual initiative and ideas are rewarded with praise as incentive for employees to continue to be creative and imaginative. Here, that is not the case. I think I got a half-hazard “nice work” buried in an email, but that has been overshadowed by critiques and criticisms of other things. In any case, it seems that the office management style is based on criticism and critique, rather than reward and praise, which I don’t think is good for creativity-based work, and certainly not good for me. I worry that I won’t be able to offer up my best work if I feel like my contributions are ignored or unappreciated, and where the only feedback is negative. Maybe I’ve only ever experienced one type of managing style, and am going through some office culture shock. Maybe competition for recognition and credit is something that is only necessary in the private sector, and not in the public sector, where it is not the basis for promotions/raises and the like. In any case, the situation requires some adaptation and understanding on my part, but for the past couple days I have been one disgruntled employee.

That negative aside, overall I am very pleased with the work I am doing. I feel that it is challenging and fun. Also, our housing is phenomenal. The interns were given two houses, one for the boys, one for the girls. There are only two girls, so the two of us are living in a three-story, four-bedroom town house with a full washer and dryer, a private backyard, and a jacuzzi tub in the master bedroom (which is mine by the way, since I came first). We also have an outdoor pool, clubhouse, and a gym. All in all, we are living it up. There are also other perks as well, including comp tickets to certain shows, and occasional gifts shared by the office. For example, PAS was given two crates full of California cherries, and everyone in the office got to take home a bag. It was wonderful! I love loving my work!

May 26th was Andy’s birthday. It was also the date that I had originally planned to leave Yunnan for Shanghai (so I could see Don), but as I was having such an awesome time, and as I really didn’t want to leave Andy on his birthday, and as we were no where near a major city from which to depart, I decided to stick around for a few more days (which I’m sure Andy really appreciated). His birthday dawned on yet another soggy, rainy, dreary day. We had set our alarms early to get a head start on the 120 km that was our goal for the day, but we  took a look at the messy weather, swore, and promptly went back to bed. The extra sleep was certainly welcomed as we had had an epic battle the night before: Man vs. Bug. It happened like this:

We had been sitting in our hotel room working on our laptops in peace for about half an hour. A sudden buzzing above our heads alerts us to the fact that a giant moth/beetle has snuck into the room. As it is a pretty large bug, I get up and pick up a metal tray with which to vanquish it. I do so successfully, and am about to sit down again when the buzzing sound again appears. ANOTHER moth/beetle has snuck into the room. I again grab the tray, only to look up and see TWO moths flying around. I quickly kill them both, but now another 4 are in the room. Then 8, then 10, then 12, then ayyyeeeee! It is a bug invasion! As I’m frantically trying to keep pace with the multiplying bugs we hear Evan run over, bang on the door requesting my Off. He too is having a sudden bug invasion. He also alerts us to the fact that they are getting in by crawling under the doorsill. I quickly grab a piece of clothing and stuff it under the door. They are also coming in under the bathroom door, and Andy braves the bugs in the bathroom to shut the bathroom window, which had been open. Now that we have cut off the point of entry, the massacre begins. With our mighty weapons of tea tray and towel, we vanquish the invaders, leaving insect carcasses littered across the room. No remorse here, I actually feel pretty good about the slaughter.

So in any case, after that epic night we all enjoy our extra hour of sleep. However, we do have to get on the road, rain or not. Luckily, the sky holds, and we proceed on our way in dryness. Not only that, but an hour into our ride, the sky miraculously clears, leaving bright blue sky, warm sunshine, and puffy white clouds. Clearly the heavens know it is Andy’s birthday. The miracles don’t stop there. At lunchtime, the heavens delivered yet another birthday gift. We stopped for lunch at a little hidden restaurant on the side of the road. The menu options were extremely limited, but the dining room was quiet, deliciously cool, clean, and with fake vines covering the ceiling to add a touch of ambiance. Not bad for a birthday lunch in the middle of nowhere. We are each given a cup of tea, and proceed to kick back and relax when a flash of movement and a “plop!” interrupts our conversation. Something has fallen from the vine-covered ceiling into Andy’s tea. I look in expecting to see a struggling moth or beetle (ala last night), and am shocked to discover a two-inch scorpion! Do my eyes deceive me? Andy peers in and confirms that yes indeed, it is a scorpion. Luckily, a dead scorpion. Whether it was sudden death that had caused the scorpion to fall, or if it had been dead for a while and finally succumbed to gravity we won’t know. Evan, in his Evan way, asks the waitress if there are many scorpions in the area, to which she replies that there are none. “None?” Evan probes. “If there are, you don’t see them,” replies the waitress. At this Evan tells her that a scorpion just fell from the ceiling into the tea, and jokes that he’ll sell it to her and asks if the restaurant can cook it. The waitress refuses to believe that the scorpion fell from the ceiling, and tells us that we are mistaken, and it probably was in the bag of tea. We insist that we had seen it and heard it, and she didn’t argue further, but you could tell she thought we were liars. As I sat through the rest of the lunch a bit paranoid that a live scorpion would fall on my head, I don’t blame her for not wanting to believe that there were scorpions around, and I think she was happier deluding herself into believing that it had come from somewhere else.

The rest of the day was a breeze for me (but not so much for the boys), and I pulled into our final destination for the day (and my final destination by moped, sadly) two hour ahead of the boys. I promptly went on a search for whiskey for Andy’s birthday, and ended up visiting every single grocery store in town (there were five). Alas, there was no whiskey, or any other western alcohol, to be found. Every time I went into a grocery store I asked if there was western alcohol and was told yes every time, only to be led to a pathetic selection of Chinese beer, baijiu, cheap Chinese red wine priced around three dollars a bottle, and Chinese brandy.

I gloomily wait for the boys, and report the situation. However, a third birthday miracle occurs. On our way to dinner, we pass by a club lounge clearly designed to give off the impression of elitism, and pop in to discover that they have a variety of western whiskeys on their menu! Turns out that they really only have one kind in stock, Johnny Walker Black, and really only one bottle available, but that’s all we need! We tell them to save the bottle for us, head out to dinner, and then return later with a bag of mint to celebrate with mint juleps.

Of course, things are never 100%. The waitress brings out their only bottle of Johnny Walker Black, which has already been opened and is missing a pour. The waitress tells us that only one drink has been poured, and announces that she will subtract the cost of one drink from the bottle price. Evan negotiates with her to knock even more off, since it really is quite ridiculous that she has brought us an opened bottle. She agrees, and we finally begin to celebrate Andy’s birth.

Evan whips up some super delicious mint juleps, and we spend the next two hours drinking and playing Celebrities (which is a timed guessing game that involves charades), getting sillier and sillier as the night goes on. When the bar closes at midnight, we move on looking for any other place that is open, and stumble upon a club blasting techno-pop. The bouncers outside are delighted to have foreigners, and let us go right on up with our outside beverages and all. As our eyes adjust to the strobing lights and smoky haze, we discover a dance floor full of mostly men. The only two females in the place (aside from myself) are club employees, hired to dance. It’s a little weird, but we don’t really care, and the three of us all get on the dance floor and start busting some moves. We don’t stay too long, but we’ve accomplished our goal of engaging in some celebratory shenanigans. Birthday accomplished.

It's the journey, not the destination or the distance that matters

Mountains, valleys, mist, mud, trees, cliffs, stones, bamboo, buffalo, clouds, flowers, air, rain, dirt, sunshine, bumps, honks, barking, croaking frogs, green, blue, brown. These are the main things that bombarded my sensory cortices as I traveled the mountain roads of Yunnan. Yet while on the motorbike, these things didn’t really register as nouns, or even concepts, but instead were processed by my brain as a series of emotions. Mountains and mist were processed as awe, wonder, and respect; trees, flowers, bamboo, and sunshine were felt in terms of joy, relaxation and sheer contentment; clouds and valleys were thrill and excitement; dirt, mud, bumps, honks and barking were annoyance, determination, and fortitude; cliffs, rain, darkness were terror, cold, and uncertainty.

Yet the emotions that triumphed were pride, fun, and happiness. I’m proud of myself for riding a motorcycle through bumpy country roads for two and half weeks with no accidents (aside from a burn). There were a few precarious cliffs with downhill, hairpin turns and no guardrail that could easily have sent any of us off a cliff-face, but that fortunately didn’t happen (Not to worry, I was well prepared mentally to handle that situation. I practiced in my head how I would jump off the motorbike and let it and my stuff go off the side of the mountain in the event of a slide out arounda turn. I would have been fine, just down a motorbike, two computers, my passport, and all my stuff. Hypothetically.) I had an amazing time with Andy after 9 months of separation, and went on a magnificent adventure. The scenery also was just breathtaking. I’ll post a few of Andy’s photos here, but you should check out his Flickr site to get the full effect. All in all, it was one of the most exciting vacations I’ve had in a long while. I’m very sad that I had to abandon my beloved motorbike in Yunxian. Hopefully somebody with a good heart will find it and give it a good home.

Gorgeous scenery (Andy's picture)

Exciting certainly doesn’t mean that the experience was a piece of cake, nor that it was all enjoyable. There were plenty of times where the ride was hard, terrifying, wet, and cold. The forty kilometers from Gengma to Mengsha was ridden entirely in a steady rain that left me soaked and chilled to the bone. I also felt a profound sense of unease whenever trying to get past a herd of water buffalo on the road. Although I know that those animals are docile to the core, and rather stupid to boot, they are massive, alien, and with rather unnervingly large horns. Trying to ride through a pack of them is unsettling as you feel that they could either kick you or gore you and that would be that. I feel much better trying to get around a herd of goats or cattle.

More beautiful scenery

Many have said that the journey is more important than the destination. In the case of this trip, it was totally true. The road itself was the adventure, the present was beauty, your fellow travelers your home. It was a good ride.

Sunburn was a constant threat. Here's how I protected my arms! I know I look goofy as all get out, but function is better than beauty!

Muddy roads. I almost got stuck one time when I was following Andy and he suddenly slowed. Note: Do not lose velocity when trying to get through mud. I had to frog push my way out.

Trying to wait out the rain

Now on to my next adventure of the summer: my internship at the Consulate.

Me at the monastery, in my Wa ethnic minority head scarf!

The second biggest religion in China -second to atheism, if that counts- is probably Buddhism. Throughout the small towns of Southwest China, there is usually at least one Buddhist temple in the vicinity, and it is not uncommon to see young men in bright saffron robes riding by on motorcycles, picking up a pack of cigs at the nearest xiaomaibu, or sitting around looking monk-like. As Evan wrote in his post “A Totally Tea Time with Tutu” (http://www.portraitofanlbx.com/2010/05/a-totally-tea-time-with-tutu/), in many areas (such as Bulang) all boys are required to be a monk for at least seven whole days of their lives, a concept similar to the period of mandatory military service for boys in places such as Korea and Israel. Interestingly, it is absolutely illegal for girls to become Buddhist nuns. I guess girls become dangerous to society when they become religious and get a bit more of an education. As we soon learned, “being a monk” is a rather relative concept. Ascetic the life is not, even though it is supposed to be according to Buddhist tradition and doctrine. In fact, much like everything else in China, the Buddhism practiced here is based on a doctrine (law) proclaimed in words but very rarely followed in practice. All the rules of Buddhism can be broken (just like law in China!), and they most certainly are (just like law in China!).

We learned this first hand when we decided to visit a temple fair in Gengma. It started at 8 in the morning, but as it was raining, and as we are pretty slow in getting moving in the morning, we didn’t show up until around 11 am. As we pulled up in front of the temple, we see three or four monks sitting outside the temple gate smoking. Thinking it a little odd for monks, we muse that it must not be against the rules.

We walk inside to find that the fair has ended, and all the monks are just sitting down to eat lunch. Our initial disappointment turns to interest when we are promptly invited to sit down and have lunch with the monks. Even though we had just had breakfast, we gratefully sit down at a table with the head honcho, the director of the Buddhist Association that is responsible for the temples and monks of six nearby counties.

We are immediately surprised when we see the food. 5 out of the 8 dishes were meat!!  In other parts of China I have known Buddhist monks to eat fish, but never meat. We ask about this strange phenomenon and are told that Dai Buddhism is different than  Tibetan or Chinese (or Indian) Buddhism. Apparently they follow the Theravada school of Buddhism, and thus can eat meat. That’s fine in itself, but 5 out of 8 dishes are meat? Considering that meat is so much more expensive than vegetables, these monks are actually living quite large. We’ve witnessed and have heard that monk life is actually a fairly easy life when compared to the lives of most villagers. Not only do monks get all their food prepared and given to them for free, they get good, expensive food that the villagers often don’t get on a daily basis.

Additionally, there seem to be very few sacrifices on the part of monks. We talked to the head monk, a bespectacled man named Tikka Dashi, who gave us an entire explanation of the life and death of Buddha, the role that the monks fulfill, and certain doctrinal guidelines. The monks, it seems, are not allowed to smoke, drink, or do anything that defiles their bodies. We immediately bring up the fact that we just saw five monks smoking outside. At this, Tikka Dashi sheepishly explains that even though the monks aren’t supposed to smoke or drink, etc, a lot of them do anyway, blatantly breaking

the rules with impunity. I guess rules are meant to be broken!

All in all, it seems that being a monk is a pretty desirable thing to be. There are only upsides, no down. You get free food, free lodging, you can smoke and drink, and leave and get married when you want. A monk’s main job, according to Tikka Dashi, is to disseminate information on the classics, read the sutras, and conduct certain spiritual rituals. Other monks that we met even engage in commerce, tending to tea trees and the like. In sum, not a bad life.

On an only slightly related religious note, the drunk Wa middle school teachers we met in Xuelin who toasted us all night were Christian. We discussed different religions with them, and they said that while not all Chinese believe in the same God, they all believe in the Party. What a load of communist crap. Kinda made me want to vomit a little in my mouth. Totally something a government worker (i.e teacher) would say.