Competition Day (Part 1)

(Edited for spelling errors. Sorry folks!)

    I mentioned in a previous post that I was learning kungfu. I was also fortunate to go see my friend's kungfu/taichi practice. My friend, who also happened to be the assistant teacher for my kungfu class, and his classmate had been training the preceding months for an upcoming competition. In the States, I worked for a Taekwondo dojang and I've been to my share of Taekwondo competitions. I was, naturally, curious to see whether a kungfu/taichi competition was similar. When I mentioned my interest to Chuanchao, he expressed pleasure, ducking his head in embarrassment.
    "My friend would like to go too. I will introduce you and you both can arrive together." He said. "You cannot come with me, because I have to be there very early."

***

    As the day drew nearer, I got lost in my studies, and Chuanchao in his. Chinese was running me over like a dump truck, and I was not doing as well as I'd hoped. It was the day before the competition, and I was walking home from a particularly horrific class--it was one of those classes during which I was apparently asking really dumb questions. My chin was tucked into the scarf around my neck, and I watched the ground as I strode. I was so lost in self-pity that I didn't notice that Chuanchao walking towards me. He had to step right in front of me, blocking my path, before I realized that he was there.
    As usual, he was wearing loose pants and a sweatshirt. In his hands, he carried several of the swords used in Chinese fencing. Obviously, he'd just come from practice.
    After exchanging greetings, he gave me his friend's number, saying that we should figure out when and where to meet.
    "The competition will be at the medical school." Chuanchao added.
    I nodded, thinking of the medical school near our own campus. "Okay, that's not too far." I murmured.
    "It will be good, I think." he said. "I must go now, but I will see you tomorrow."
I smiled as I waved goodbye. Then, I turned and padded back home.

Practice, Practice, Practice.

 "Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power" 

Lao Tzu

    The day was an unusually sunny one. The smog had been brushed away by the gentle breeze, which caressed my face as I stood in the stadium’s stands. My friend Chuanchao had invited me to one of his kungfu practices. I had asked him about two weeks ago if I could take some photos of him doing taichi—he taught taichi, as well as assisting the kungfu class which I take. Actually, as part of his program, he competes in kungfu, taichi, and Chinese fencing.

    I held up a hand to block the sun from my eyes as I surveyed the field before me. The red track was covered with runners, both soloists and groups. The field had a horde of students—mostly young men—who were either stretching or practicing their footwork with soccer balls. Along the outskirts of the track, on the packed dirt, were several fierce games of badminton played by older folks. They appear to be all white hair and smiles, until you put a racket in their hand and suddenly they become the Serena Williams.
    There was one group, however, which didn’t fit in with the rest. They were on the outside part of the track, on a section with the same rubbery material as the track itself. A perfect medium to practice martial arts on. Heedless of possible injury, I picked up my feet and skipped down the concrete “seats”. As I drew closer, a figure detached itself from the main group and came to meet me. It was Chuanchao. He greeted me with his usual smile.

Pancakes

“Good food is very often, even most often, simple food.”  
 --Anthony Bourdain

     I had originally written this post as a story, with plenty of descriptions and poetic phrases. When I had finished, however, I found that it was much too overdone. Instead of being pleased, as I have admittedly become accustomed to, I was intensely dissatisfied. After a few revisions, I finally did what every writer--any craftsman--hates to do. I deleted the file.
     So here, in all its simple glory, a new post. 

     There is an street near my dorm which is lined with food vendors and fruit stands. Needless to say, this street abounds with students during mealtimes. Off this main street, like capillaries, are small alleys with yet more food stands. The first time I ventured down one of these alleys it was raining and I was not in the best of moods.

There Be Learnin' Here

     Since this is a study abroad, one can safely assume that I am, in fact, attending classes—for, sadly, it’s not all baozi and bijiu here. As previously alluded to, I’m taking Buddhism, in which we becoming enlightened about the nuances of the aforementioned religion. My other classes consist of Chinese Language, Contemporary China, Western China, Calligraphy, and Kung-Fu. As part of the Pacific Lutheran University program, I teach English to high-school students once a week. Since I didn’t have enough to do, I also help teach the on-campus English class with my Chinese Language teacher, Karo. 

     Every day, I have Chinese class from 8:30 to 12. The first hour and a half is the comprehensive class, which is not taught by Karo, but by Deng Laoshi—for future reference, laoshi is “teacher” in Chinese, and Deng is her family name. She’s barely two inches taller than I, which puts her at about 5’1”. Her shiny black hair brushes her shoulders, and she wears thin-framed glasses. I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher—her patience with our incessant questions and occasional brain malfunctions is infinite. I have yet to see her lose her calm and cheerful attitude. 

This Is Halloween

     Halloween is my favorite holiday. I get to indulge in my childhood fantasies—I become another person, a favorite character from a book, or another creature entirely. The fact that I’m currently living in another country, one that doesn’t celebrate Halloween as rabidly as America, didn’t prevent me from celebrating my favorite holiday.

     To tell everything about our Halloween experience is both boring and time consuming. So, for your enjoyment, here is a snippet of our Halloween—pumpkin carving in China.

     Two weeks before Halloween:

     “Chloe!” Courtney called to me over the heaped fruit. Her voice bubbled with excitement. I leaned around the pyramid of apples to see what had caused her exclamation. One hand on the cart, she stood in front of one of the many wooden barrels which held cabbages. This barrel, however, did not cradle heads of cabbage, but rather the beautiful orange spheres of pumpkins.

I almost dropped the bag of apples. Knowing that it was thoroughly odd, I let out a squeal and danced over to the treasure trove. Our fellow shoppers glanced at us curiously, then looked away with a shrug. Foreigners.

     “I sent a photo to Hammerstrom,” my roommate said, “We can carve them for Halloween!”

“We can come back next week, so they stay fresh.” I finally acknowledged the strange looks from the customers, and my happy dance petered out.