As soon as we crossed the start line, a wave of giddiness washed over me. I was running a marathon! Energy levels were high, the air was brisk, adrenaline was pumping, people were cheering, it was hard NOT to be giddy and excited. Remembering our yoga lessons from the day before, Ben and I started slow, working to wake up our legs and get into a gentle, steady rhythm. Before we knew it, 4 miles had gone by, and we found ourselves running across Roslyn Bridge and into Georgetown. We hadn’t had too many spectators between miles 1 and 4, but Georgetown was awash with people cheering, playing music, etc. The only downside was that this was one of the sections where the course double-backed, so you could see the hard-core runners sprinting back on the other side, which served as a painful reminder that they were so much faster than you, and would finish so much earlier than you.The morning of our marathon we woke up bright and early for a 5:30 am breakfast of bagels and coffee, and then were quickly out the door for a warm-up jog to the metro. Luckily we had a straight shot to Pentagon City on the yellow line, which took us less than 15 minutes. However, we were not prepared for the mass of humanity waiting to exit the metro at our final destination, and it took us another 20 minutes just to get ourselves off the platform, up the escalators, through the exit turnstiles, and out the door of the metro station. We followed the throng of thousands for a mile walk to Runner’s Village, where we watched the Osprey flyover and tandem jump while waiting in a crowd to get through “security,” a half-assed and entirely unneccessary “bag search” that created an annoying traffic jam without really enhancing security in any meaningful way. By the time we got into the Runner’s Village, it was 7:30, only half an hour till the start of the race, and we still had to check bags and wait in the long port-o-potty lines to do some very important business before the race! We decided that two of us would save spots in the bathroom lines, while two ran to check our bags. Taking off our warm clothing was not so much fun, as it was a very nippy morning, but we did and dutifully waited in line while standing in a huddle to keep the wind off us. By the time all 4 of us had finished with the port-o-potty, it was 7:55, five minutes to start! We quickly jogged the 1/4 mile from Runner’s Village to the start line and found our pace corals just as the clock hit 8 and the first runners took off. It took Ben and I another 12 minutes to cross the start line, and then, we were off!!!!

It was between miles 5 and 8 that I began paying attention to other runners. There were certainly a good deal of people in costumes, being that the race was the day before Halloween. Some were dressed as superheros, which worked well with athletic clothing. Others wore costumes that looked tremendously bulky and uncomfortable, including one dressed as a rubber whoopy cushion, and one dressed as Uncle Sam, beard and hat and all. Other runners were carrying random objects, including an oar for rowing. I’m sure these objects held some symbolic significance, I just didn’t ask. And then you had the marines, running with their heavy boots (which I’ve heard are uncomfortable), and 35 pound packs on their backs. Andy said he even saw a marine running with another marine on his back. He didn’t know if they were alternating or if the runner had to carry the other for the whole 26.2 miles. If it was the latter, I’m sure it sucked for both the carrier AND the carryee. In any case, I’ll take a sidebar to note that all the marines present at the MCM, both the runners and volunteers, were super professional, friendly, and impressive people. It was a joy to experience, and I certainly wish everyone in the U.S. armed forces were such exemplar representatives of their country and service, but I know sadly that is not the case.

Between miles 8 and 9 we had finished our northern loop and were running back through Georgetown. Ben and I were still in high spirits and goofing off. At mile marker 9, I gave my phone to Ben to snap a picture of me cheesing in front of the sign with two marines behind so I could tweet it. As you can tell, we were absolutely totally serious hardcore runners. As I was cheesing with my peace signs, I heard someone shout my name. It turned out to be my colleague Patrick, who was also running and only noticed me because of my photo shenanigans. I mean really, who stops to take pictures in the middle of a race? We said hello, and then continued at our separate paces (Ben and I were a bit faster than my colleague). We continued our run south towards the Lincoln Memorial, and that’s when the mob of spectators quadrupled! As we were bending around Ohio Drive in front of the Lincoln Memorial, the space for runners narrowed as the crowd pressed in on the road to cheer us on. I could have stretched out my hands and given high-fives to the spectators on both sides of the path, that’s how close they were pressing in. If they hadn’t been cheering and waving and smiling, it would have been quite suffocating and ominous, but the mood was overwhelmingly exuberant so I don’t think any runners minded the crush.

We had just passed mile ten when I felt it… a sharp pain up my knee. An expletive immediately came to mind, but a few more strides and the pain subsided. However, it was a bad sign to have knee pain so early in the run. A short while later, Ben also admitted to having some ankle pains. We were not even half-way through the race… this was not good at all. Miles 11-13 Ben and I ran mostly in silence, listening to our joints, trying to assess what our bodies were telling us. Was that throb a warning that a muscle was about to tear? Those needle pricks a precursor to a sprain? Our fear was not that we’d injure ourselves, but that we would not be able to finish the race.

Luckily, I had extra-strength advil in my pocket, one for me, one for Ben. As soon as we crossed mile 13, we popped them in, and hoped for the best as we continued along. The trouble with my knee pain was that it hurt the most if I stopped or slowed, and then re-started. So from mile 13 on, I couldn’t slow down for water or snack breaks. Ben, being the good big brother he is, would go off to the side and grab water and snacks for two while I trotted on ahead steadily, and then he would pick up the pace to catch up with me and hand me a cup and food, which I would down while still maintaining a steady pace. He did that for every water and food break for most of the remainder of the race, which of course put him at a disadvantage in terms of maintaining his strength and energy. Thanks Ben!

Andy found us at mile 15, and mostly stayed with us on his bike as we ran around the mall, past the museums, toward the Capitol. He had his camera, and was snapping away, until mile 19, when we were just doubling back from the Capitol, he tried to take a video and discovered there was no memory card in his camera! All this time he had been taking photos, none of the photos had been saved. A pity, but there were of course photos available to purchase. from mile 15 to 20, things went fairly steadily for Ben and I, although Ben had to exert more energy and speed for all the snacks and water he was bringing to me. All that extra effort finally took a toll on Ben between mile 20 and 21, just as we made it onto the Bridge back over to Virginia. His ankle and calves were hurting, and he had to stop and stretch. Unfortunately, I knew if I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to restart with my bum knee, and very apologetically abandoned Ben on the bridge. The bridge was the worst part of the run for me, not just because I was separated from my running partner. Mentally, you are rejoicing at the fact that you only have a 10k left to run, but also cursing the fact that you still have a 10k to run. Plus, you are on a long concrete slab of a bridge, with only the concrete city of Roslyn looming ahead of you, not very emotionally inspiring. Plus, there were no spectators on the bridge, they’d been routed to a pedestrian path, which meant no cheering for motivation, and also meant I didn’t have Andy pedaling within sight to give some comfort. That was the longest mile of the run.

I finally got to the other side, but couldn’t find Andy. All I could do was steel myself and run the last five miles through Crystal City and back toward Roslyn by myself. I spent miles 21 through 23 reciting a mantra in my head to the rhythm of my feet slapping the pavement, “smooth and steady….smooth and steady.”

At mile 22 my stomach began gurgling. It didn’t feel so great. For a mile I debated whether I should stop and use a port-0-potty, or steel myself and finish the race. At mile 23 I noticed a band of port-o-potties with no one standing in line for them, and took it as a sign I should use the restroom now. I thanked the MCM gods that I had paid attention at the First Timers Pep Rally and brought along a “poopy pack” (extra tissues), because there was indeed no toilet paper left in the stall. My knee was not happy at having to start up again after that break, but I pushed through the initial pain and got back into rhythm for the last 3.2 miles. “smooth and steady….smooth and steady.” Finally, after what seemed like ages, I got to mile 25, the point of no return. As I was passing under a bridge, I heard someone yell my name from the other side of the road. Andy had found me! He had been looking for me since he was detoured at the bridge. The last full mile was a straight long road, which allowed Andy to bike beside me on the other side of the grassy meridian. I had mixed feelings about his presence, glad that he was there, self-conscious about my running speed. I wasn’t about to slow down to a walk, but his presence ensured that I’d keep my pace as fast as I could. Finally, mile 26 arrived, .2 more!! I pushed up a final hill, a bend, surrounded by swarms of people, lost Andy, and finally, the finish line! I jumped across the finish line, too elated to even look at the time on the clock.

And then I was stuck. The finishing pen was PACKED. I couldn’t move. I was shoulder to shoulder with others who had spent the last 4.5 hours running, only to find themselves at a stand still in a crowd with no space to cool down or stretch. Everyone at least was in good spirits after finishing, but I felt bewildered and lost. Another crowd again. How would I find Ben? I was the only one who had a phone. How long till I could see Andy? He had disappeared in the crowd outside the finishers coral. The reason for the logjam was that a row of marines were personally putting medals around the necks of every finisher and shaking his/her hand. A very nice touch, but slow-going when there are 30,000 runners. I got past the initial logjam, and found a cinder block to stand on as I waited and scanned for Ben inside the finishers coral. Every passing minute made me worry whether Ben’s injuries had been so bad that he couldn’t finish, but in less than ten minutes I had found him coming up through the throng of finishers. We took some victory photos, got our gatorade and bananas, and finally found Andy.

And then we tried to get home. Andy had his bike, so he left us on that. Our initial plan was to take the metro, but it was too packed to even get inside the station. Then we saw a line for the bus, which we decided was also too long. The taxi line was longer. Our only course of action was to walk to a point where we could get on some sort of transportation. So, after having run 26.2 miles (on top of the 2 miles that it took for us to get to the start line), we walked another 1.5 miles over Roslyn Bridge and through Georgetown, where Mom and Dad came to get us. Thanks parents!

All in all, Ben and I covered about 30 miles on foot that day. Here’s to our next marathon in Las Vegas in December!

Enjoy, and Happy Bethany-Devi Day, Bethany!

No Sis, Sad ness

What would I do without my Sis?

My life would surely have less bliss

I would not have so much to eat

The house would surely be less neat

Without my sis how would I feel?

Sad, that I’d have less clothes to steal

No surprise cupcakes as a treat

One less follower of my tweets

On who else could I so depend

To come with me on an errand

To the vet, my she’s a trooper!

Even though the cat’s a pooper.

I do not know what I would do

I really, truly have no clue

If my sis weren’t in my life

Oh! My life would be rife with strife.

How I love you my sister dear

You fill my life with joy and cheer

I couldn’t live without your shine

I could not, would not, anytime.

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)

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.