Today was a day of pain! Charlie and I went to see a traditional Chinese doctor on Jimmy’s recommendation. Something’s the matter with Charlie’s elbow, I wanted to see about my back, and we figured it was worth a shot. But, damn! The man has iron harpy-claws for fingers! His massage had both of us moaning and squirming with discomfort. Words cannot explain what I was feeling— things were moving, bits of me I didn’t know I had. With that said, I think he worked some improvement into me. I’m definitely a return customer (we’re planning on luring Tom in for something too, it’s pretty hilarious as long as you aren’t the one on the table).
We left the Dr.’s and Jimmy showed us to a Korean place he likes in the Yantai market. The food was awesome, and cheap! I can’t get over what a deal food is here in China— all three of us ate to bursting (rice, BBQ beef on lettuce with hot-sauce and garlic, veggies, pepper tofu, and frybread) on 81 kwai, twelve bucks. Best of all, I memorized the way from Jusco to the market, so I can go on my own (or meet folks there) if I please. After the food, we stopped at a traditional pharmacy to fill our prescriptions from Dr. Lee before heading home. I haven't a clue what all’s mixed up in my treatment (some dried orange rind, dried ginger, and several kinds of mystery twigs), but it won’t be a great loss should they prove useless. My three days of mojo cost 5 kwai, Charlie’s cost 6.
Jimmy gave me a lesson in Chinese when we got back. Neither of us were too into it, we were wiped out, but I still learned some important words. Plus, I got to practice pronunciation and sentence creation. That about brings us up to current, polishing off the tomatoes Master brought me, listening to tunes, and about to go to sleep.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
@_@
Weird, my brain rerouted its typing patterns too well. The correct motions feel foreign. I’m like a paralysis victim in physical therapy. But, you won’t catch me complaining. In a few hours I’ll be good as new. [Edit] This entry is taking way longer than it should, it’s dry, it won’t come together. But, if you feel like reading about my Friday maybe you’ll find it somewhat interesting. To touch on training a bit though, it's been great this week, at least for the second half. I've been super motivated, doing more exciting, realtime drills, and the master is happy with my performance. He wants me to hoe the sand in the courtyard this weekend (to callous my hands more), but I'm sure not doing it today.
It was another long, long, night yesterday. Jimmy and I started off at a Beer Pong event over at Yantai University. There were probably upwards of forty people in the [small] room, but only a few were playing, the rest of us just socialized. I hung out with a Korean dude, June, and met a surprising number of Anglophone foreigners. We only stayed an about an hour before a radiator in the back commenced spewing water on the partiers. Afterwards, I chilled in a dorm room with Jimmy, some English teachers, and a Kung Fu student from an out of town school. I ended up with an invite back for a b-day party next week, so I figure I’ll meet most of them again. One fellow, Cameron, was an English major. We talked quite a lot about Shakespeare, writing, and what I’m doing in China.
For reasons unknown there was a mass migration from the dorm to Ali Baba’s where I re-encountered many University people, hooked up with Tom, Lion, Charlie, and met loads more new faces. Charlie was in pretty deep when I arrived. He gave me extended, congratulatory speeches on sticking it out here in China, worldly advice, squeezed my hand into pulp with his iron grip, and tried arm locking me. Delightfully, I reversed it. Normally I wouldn’t be able to respond fast enough, but he was drunk. By and by his girl dragged him off, I stayed on chatting to who knows who. I hardly paid for anything yesterday. Daniel, Big-Daniel, Lion, and Charlie all bought me drinks.
Eventually, Jimmy, Nikki (student and near-translator for the camp), Manson (I always want to call him Winston), James (Chinese Chemistry student), Mike (English teacher), myself, and two other mystery people changed scenes for some Korean BBQ around three. Conversation varied, but continually wandered back to exaltations for pepper and BBQ.
Also— I reprised my shaved head this week— it’s a sensational hit with the masters.
It was another long, long, night yesterday. Jimmy and I started off at a Beer Pong event over at Yantai University. There were probably upwards of forty people in the [small] room, but only a few were playing, the rest of us just socialized. I hung out with a Korean dude, June, and met a surprising number of Anglophone foreigners. We only stayed an about an hour before a radiator in the back commenced spewing water on the partiers. Afterwards, I chilled in a dorm room with Jimmy, some English teachers, and a Kung Fu student from an out of town school. I ended up with an invite back for a b-day party next week, so I figure I’ll meet most of them again. One fellow, Cameron, was an English major. We talked quite a lot about Shakespeare, writing, and what I’m doing in China.
For reasons unknown there was a mass migration from the dorm to Ali Baba’s where I re-encountered many University people, hooked up with Tom, Lion, Charlie, and met loads more new faces. Charlie was in pretty deep when I arrived. He gave me extended, congratulatory speeches on sticking it out here in China, worldly advice, squeezed my hand into pulp with his iron grip, and tried arm locking me. Delightfully, I reversed it. Normally I wouldn’t be able to respond fast enough, but he was drunk. By and by his girl dragged him off, I stayed on chatting to who knows who. I hardly paid for anything yesterday. Daniel, Big-Daniel, Lion, and Charlie all bought me drinks.
Eventually, Jimmy, Nikki (student and near-translator for the camp), Manson (I always want to call him Winston), James (Chinese Chemistry student), Mike (English teacher), myself, and two other mystery people changed scenes for some Korean BBQ around three. Conversation varied, but continually wandered back to exaltations for pepper and BBQ.
Also— I reprised my shaved head this week— it’s a sensational hit with the masters.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Forms!
From the left: Tom, Daniel, Bernard, and Charlie (ambushed while talking before lunch)
Last night I had my first Chinese lesson with Jimmy (YES! My keys are working again! Oh, but now it’s stopped, I guess they aren’t all the way dry yet? Most of them are working though, what a nice surprise). Like I was saying, the first lesson with Jimmy— I made a lot of progress. We practiced some Chinese tongue twisters to drill the tones, and he taught some more vocabulary (informal phrases, body parts, directions, also “so,” and “because ”). I can finally put together some simple sentences on the spot.
Today has been pleasant. My sickness is almost gone, the sun is shining, and training was a lot of fun. I don't know why, but the master never motioned for Chi Gong today. We just (such a thrill to use the j key ^__^) stayed in the main hall and drilled applications, including an exciting hand-catching drill I hadn’t seen before. One person punches, and the other rotates his target shoulder back and snags the incoming arm. We got do to some improvisation after the snatch, which I really enjoyed. Back in Washington I had loads of fun with that sort of free play, but here it’s a rarity.
Many of you have already seen it, but here’s a video I shot of my basic forms— like I say in the clip, the more I thought the less I felt like waiting.
One of these days I’ll ask Jimmy to film some stretching, and perhaps some drills too.
Edit: Anomaly, we actually did a little push/sticky hand playtime this afternoon. The master won (who could’ve seen that coming?), but I faired passably in an exercise similar to one we always practiced in Walla Walla. We also punched pads. I felt real improvement in my relaxation, the strike had more shock to it than the blunt force I'm trying to get away from. It's been a successful day.
My hands paid the price for those good strikes. Bear in mind, the pictures (the flash) make it look much worse than it is, and I probably won't do striking like this until next week, at the earliest.
Last night I had my first Chinese lesson with Jimmy (YES! My keys are working again! Oh, but now it’s stopped, I guess they aren’t all the way dry yet? Most of them are working though, what a nice surprise). Like I was saying, the first lesson with Jimmy— I made a lot of progress. We practiced some Chinese tongue twisters to drill the tones, and he taught some more vocabulary (informal phrases, body parts, directions, also “so,” and “because ”). I can finally put together some simple sentences on the spot.
Today has been pleasant. My sickness is almost gone, the sun is shining, and training was a lot of fun. I don't know why, but the master never motioned for Chi Gong today. We just (such a thrill to use the j key ^__^) stayed in the main hall and drilled applications, including an exciting hand-catching drill I hadn’t seen before. One person punches, and the other rotates his target shoulder back and snags the incoming arm. We got do to some improvisation after the snatch, which I really enjoyed. Back in Washington I had loads of fun with that sort of free play, but here it’s a rarity.
Many of you have already seen it, but here’s a video I shot of my basic forms— like I say in the clip, the more I thought the less I felt like waiting.
One of these days I’ll ask Jimmy to film some stretching, and perhaps some drills too.
Edit: Anomaly, we actually did a little push/sticky hand playtime this afternoon. The master won (who could’ve seen that coming?), but I faired passably in an exercise similar to one we always practiced in Walla Walla. We also punched pads. I felt real improvement in my relaxation, the strike had more shock to it than the blunt force I'm trying to get away from. It's been a successful day.
My hands paid the price for those good strikes. Bear in mind, the pictures (the flash) make it look much worse than it is, and I probably won't do striking like this until next week, at the earliest.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
The Lost Week
By the grace of coffee, this is a smashing Friday. There haven’t been any posts recently, because I haven’t been feeling well. After last Friday’s food poisoning, I got slammed twice more on Monday and Wednesday.
During Monday lunch DMIL came around and handed out cloves of garlic (to ward off sickness and improve general health). I commented on the size of my clove, gigantic, and the probably sting within. “Oh, ” I was assured, “you don't need to chew it, swallow it like a pill!” And I did, alone. Everybody else chewed slowly. I accused them of not following their own advice, but thought little of it and went on with my day.
But I had not felt the last of that garlic, it rose again to plague me in the small hours. That is to say I had abdominal pains, strong nausea, endless, garlic burps, and very little sleep that night. I took the next day off, on account of my minimal rest (and because I was still feeling ill from the garlic). I felt much better in the afternoon, however, and felt up to going out for fish and chicken soup with Daniel and the guys. Lo, the soup made us all sick in the night. Bernard threw up. So, it hasn't been a pleasurable week in that respect.
Also, Andy is gone. I guess he couldn't stand up to his family anymore. Now he’s to drive a truck for his living, ridiculous. We have a new translator though, called Jimmy. He is twenty-one, speaks English well (with an extraordinary American accent), and likes to play Basketball. He hoped to study in the U.S. this year, but his application was scuttled by some unfinished paperwork in the immigration database— his family started it years ago and never finished. He’s a personable guy, and has recommended a doctor I should see about my back. Apparently he’s a sports rehabilitation dude who fixed Jimmy’s messed up ankle very well. This doctor is close, and not terribly expensive, so I’ll definitely make plans to see him.
I think that about describes the week. Despite my poor physical health, training has been awesome. I did some phenomenal stretches yesterday, made a breakthrough with hand conditioning the day before, and my application is getting very quick. Sometime soon I’ll make a video of what exactly I’m talking about, maybe show a little of typical training here.
The day’s yet but half done, we are running a mountain for afternoon training. As usual, I’m not looking forward to it at all. I think it’s supposed to an hour (half an hour at a time is my usual running cut-off), not to mention it’ll be a slope, and even the tiniest slope makes a big difference. But I’ll do it, and then it’ll be over.
During Monday lunch DMIL came around and handed out cloves of garlic (to ward off sickness and improve general health). I commented on the size of my clove, gigantic, and the probably sting within. “Oh, ” I was assured, “you don't need to chew it, swallow it like a pill!” And I did, alone. Everybody else chewed slowly. I accused them of not following their own advice, but thought little of it and went on with my day.
But I had not felt the last of that garlic, it rose again to plague me in the small hours. That is to say I had abdominal pains, strong nausea, endless, garlic burps, and very little sleep that night. I took the next day off, on account of my minimal rest (and because I was still feeling ill from the garlic). I felt much better in the afternoon, however, and felt up to going out for fish and chicken soup with Daniel and the guys. Lo, the soup made us all sick in the night. Bernard threw up. So, it hasn't been a pleasurable week in that respect.
Also, Andy is gone. I guess he couldn't stand up to his family anymore. Now he’s to drive a truck for his living, ridiculous. We have a new translator though, called Jimmy. He is twenty-one, speaks English well (with an extraordinary American accent), and likes to play Basketball. He hoped to study in the U.S. this year, but his application was scuttled by some unfinished paperwork in the immigration database— his family started it years ago and never finished. He’s a personable guy, and has recommended a doctor I should see about my back. Apparently he’s a sports rehabilitation dude who fixed Jimmy’s messed up ankle very well. This doctor is close, and not terribly expensive, so I’ll definitely make plans to see him.
I think that about describes the week. Despite my poor physical health, training has been awesome. I did some phenomenal stretches yesterday, made a breakthrough with hand conditioning the day before, and my application is getting very quick. Sometime soon I’ll make a video of what exactly I’m talking about, maybe show a little of typical training here.
The day’s yet but half done, we are running a mountain for afternoon training. As usual, I’m not looking forward to it at all. I think it’s supposed to an hour (half an hour at a time is my usual running cut-off), not to mention it’ll be a slope, and even the tiniest slope makes a big difference. But I’ll do it, and then it’ll be over.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Bleaargh
A truck drives by as I walk to the bus--
It’s been a little while, I got pretty sick on Friday and haven’t felt like writing. Friday itself was awesome, the two laps of frog leaps I’d been dreading all week were replaced with sprint races— the first of which Tom and I won. Sadly we lost the next round and got a hundred squats, but I’d take even three hundred squats over those leaps.
Things went south in the evening. I started feeling ill, bloated and nauseous, eventually throwing up a couple times between ten and twelve. The morning was little better, which upset me since I was slated for a mid day massage with Charlie (for the rest of the weekend I barely felt like eating). Nevertheless, I caught the bus downtown. My condition improved as the ride went on, thankfully, despite the limited standing space onboard. I was joined by an exceptionally intoxicated man with a large bottle of alcohol in one hand and a shopping bag of cherries in the other. He lurched around spewing gibberish for a few minutes before disembarking, to everyone’s relief.
Some of the outlying area--
The plan was to ride for around forty or fifty minutes, get off, and find a taxi to my destination (This saves on cab fares. A cab to the same area would run me something like 20 bucks, whereas the bus is around fifteen cents). Of course, I could barely talk to the cabby, but the thing to do is to call Andy, or Charlie’s girlfriend in this case, and have them direct the ride. This I did, and got a funny look from the driver. Unwittingly, I’d hailed him only a few hundred feet from my destination, a branch of the Bank of China.
I met Charlie outside and we walked up to his girlfriend’s place for a few minutes to chill out. Inside he handed me an odd fruit, the name of which I forgot, but have just relearned using Google. It was a Mangosteen, something I had never before seen or eaten. A bit smaller than my fist, it had a hard outer skin with a fleshy, deep purple body underneath. Charlie told me to peel off the shell in big chunks, but it wasn't working too well. The fruit chipped like a hardboiled egg gone wrong. Looking to Charlie for guidance I saw he’d snapped his whole Mangosteen in half. Comprehension! The purple stuff was actually a part of the rind. Hiding inside was a cave dwelling mandarin orange— a sweet, squishy, pale white citrus fruit.
Unlike an orange there was a smallish pit at the center, but it was no difficulty to avoid (I’ve taken this pic from Wikipedia). We scarfed them down, washed hands, and headed out for the massage.
I recognized the parlor as we arrived. I had glimpsed the entrance from the bus, cavernous, red, and gold, and wondered what lay within. At the time I settled on “fancy restaurant,” the reality was superior. We dealt briefly with a woman at the front desk and were ushered by our masseuses, upstairs, into a nicely decorated room with several beds, various other furnishings, and a large television. Describing a massage in detail is futile, but it was definitely money well spent. We paid 120 kwai (scarce shy of twenty dollars) for a full body massage including feet, hands, legs, back, and head. It was all incredibly pleasant, except a short bit during the head massage— she apparently wondered as to the tensile strength of American hair. Oh, on that note, those girls were strong! I have limited massage giving experience, but I know a few minutes of gripping anything wears one out. Seriously, she had hands like a vice, didn't look it though. Charlie went back to his girl, and I took another bus back to camp. Along the way, somebody walked in smoking a cig. The driver immediately snatched it, threw it out the window, and scolded the man, who then offered him a Pepsi. I was astounded to see that it was the same very drunk man from the morning. Yantai has ten million people, what are those odds?
So, that was Saturday. I fell asleep around six thirty with the light, and my clothes, still on, didn't wake until three, and slept again until eight (Friday night hadn’t afforded me any real rest). Sunday was spent not doing laundry, sitting around, and browsing the Internet. Monday’s past now, it wasn't terribly exciting though so I’m going to do something else. Oh great, I know what I need to do. Squats, the master wants a hundred every evening, because he can’t really ask me while I’m all tired during the day.
It’s been a little while, I got pretty sick on Friday and haven’t felt like writing. Friday itself was awesome, the two laps of frog leaps I’d been dreading all week were replaced with sprint races— the first of which Tom and I won. Sadly we lost the next round and got a hundred squats, but I’d take even three hundred squats over those leaps.
Things went south in the evening. I started feeling ill, bloated and nauseous, eventually throwing up a couple times between ten and twelve. The morning was little better, which upset me since I was slated for a mid day massage with Charlie (for the rest of the weekend I barely felt like eating). Nevertheless, I caught the bus downtown. My condition improved as the ride went on, thankfully, despite the limited standing space onboard. I was joined by an exceptionally intoxicated man with a large bottle of alcohol in one hand and a shopping bag of cherries in the other. He lurched around spewing gibberish for a few minutes before disembarking, to everyone’s relief.
Some of the outlying area--
The plan was to ride for around forty or fifty minutes, get off, and find a taxi to my destination (This saves on cab fares. A cab to the same area would run me something like 20 bucks, whereas the bus is around fifteen cents). Of course, I could barely talk to the cabby, but the thing to do is to call Andy, or Charlie’s girlfriend in this case, and have them direct the ride. This I did, and got a funny look from the driver. Unwittingly, I’d hailed him only a few hundred feet from my destination, a branch of the Bank of China.
I met Charlie outside and we walked up to his girlfriend’s place for a few minutes to chill out. Inside he handed me an odd fruit, the name of which I forgot, but have just relearned using Google. It was a Mangosteen, something I had never before seen or eaten. A bit smaller than my fist, it had a hard outer skin with a fleshy, deep purple body underneath. Charlie told me to peel off the shell in big chunks, but it wasn't working too well. The fruit chipped like a hardboiled egg gone wrong. Looking to Charlie for guidance I saw he’d snapped his whole Mangosteen in half. Comprehension! The purple stuff was actually a part of the rind. Hiding inside was a cave dwelling mandarin orange— a sweet, squishy, pale white citrus fruit.
Unlike an orange there was a smallish pit at the center, but it was no difficulty to avoid (I’ve taken this pic from Wikipedia). We scarfed them down, washed hands, and headed out for the massage.
I recognized the parlor as we arrived. I had glimpsed the entrance from the bus, cavernous, red, and gold, and wondered what lay within. At the time I settled on “fancy restaurant,” the reality was superior. We dealt briefly with a woman at the front desk and were ushered by our masseuses, upstairs, into a nicely decorated room with several beds, various other furnishings, and a large television. Describing a massage in detail is futile, but it was definitely money well spent. We paid 120 kwai (scarce shy of twenty dollars) for a full body massage including feet, hands, legs, back, and head. It was all incredibly pleasant, except a short bit during the head massage— she apparently wondered as to the tensile strength of American hair. Oh, on that note, those girls were strong! I have limited massage giving experience, but I know a few minutes of gripping anything wears one out. Seriously, she had hands like a vice, didn't look it though. Charlie went back to his girl, and I took another bus back to camp. Along the way, somebody walked in smoking a cig. The driver immediately snatched it, threw it out the window, and scolded the man, who then offered him a Pepsi. I was astounded to see that it was the same very drunk man from the morning. Yantai has ten million people, what are those odds?
So, that was Saturday. I fell asleep around six thirty with the light, and my clothes, still on, didn't wake until three, and slept again until eight (Friday night hadn’t afforded me any real rest). Sunday was spent not doing laundry, sitting around, and browsing the Internet. Monday’s past now, it wasn't terribly exciting though so I’m going to do something else. Oh great, I know what I need to do. Squats, the master wants a hundred every evening, because he can’t really ask me while I’m all tired during the day.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Laishan Town
Today, Bernard and I went to get the results from yesterday’s tests. We took the bus to Jusco, a shopping center and foreigner hub, and then a taxi to the hospital. We were early, so Bernard showed me around the side streets, “this is China,” I was told. Backwater corner shops, old men smoking on the steps, vendors gambling in their idle moments, and a geological lineage of bicycle technology covered the streets. Once again I left my camera at home, but it hardly matters now. Bernard left his papers with me (we are both in perfect condition) and went to see his girlfriend. As for me, I went back to Jusco and caught the number 53 bus back to camp. Well, I actually overshot camp and had to walk back a long ways through a district called Laishan Town. I didn't mind though, the route back was simple and I enjoyed the independence. After today I feel confident going out and coming back unscathed, alone, which is awesome. It isn’t much, I only know how to make to Jusco and back, but the Ludong Market is only a short walk from there, as are many other things. Starting today I can do my own shopping, go sightseeing, and pictures will be far easier to plan for.
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