So, about these kidnapped Chinese people in Sudan..

I think it says something about us, as a technologically advanced nation, if my auto-correct changed "Sudan" into "Sunday" when I was writing the title of the post.  Why is that? I guess people think about Sundays more than Sudan. Needless to say, it's Monday and Chinese people have been kidnapped!~

On Saturday, twenty-nine Chinese construction workers were kidnapped in Sudan. Since then, the NYTimes has reported that the Sudanese army has rescued some of these hostages but it is unknown where they were held during the last few days or where the other hostages are located.

I find this particularly interesting.

This is interesting because it doesn't make sense. Not only are Chinese people are being kidnapped (when do you ever hear that? It's usually UN workers or Americans who are in a warzone being taken), but also I find Sudan doesn't exactly have a reason to kidnap Chinese workers, who are from a country whose government fully supportive of their repressive government. Sudan has no reason to kidnap Chinese nationals who are working to build roads in the remote areas of their country that will eventually allow the movement of the army into those areas, closer and closer to the South Sudanese border.

The situation is what it is: Chinese people were kidnapped. My question is this: What is the Chinese government going to do about the kidnappings? Usually, many people die in China (yearly) and the Chinese government doesn't exactly stand by a motto like that of the US military: No one left behind. China is more than willing to send members of their population to countries that are facing hardship with both lack of domestic infrastructure and in the international sphere because it's profitable. Sudan has both domestic infrastructure issues and international human rights issues. China has sent many Chinese nationals to Sudan to help build roads to remote places that happen to be very rich in oil and natural resources. Could this be the reason China's so willing to help Sudan build such roads? I think so. It also seems reasonable that China has a lot of people to spare, just in case a few of them get killed while working a high risk area. Once again, even if a few Chinese nationals die, is it not still profitable to China when the government can just send more people to replace them?

For this situation, the Chinese government is facing a problem. Although happenstances and deaths, violations of human rights, have all occurred in the past. Now, online social media and blogging sites have caught wind of these occurrences and Chinese people themselves are demanding that the government work toward rescuing these Chinese hostages; whereas, in the past, the Chinese government could cover up the deaths and disappearances of Chinese nationals by fabricating stories about deaths at construction sites or other reasons that could assuage a grieving family. Now that social media has brought the layman into global politics, will the Chinese government learn to respect their people more?

One thing is for sure: If the Chinese government assumes their prior policy of merely replacing those who die with more from the mainland, it sends the a message to the Chinese populace they their own government doesn't value each Chinese life. This could get very messy for the Chinese government, especially since bloggers are not particularly supportive of new internet policies that require any blogger to give true personal identity information to the government so that the government can deter any malicious rumors that could be harmful to China's harmonious image.

Sweet Beatz, Sweat Finish, Part III

(This post is a continuation of Part I and Part II)

I woke up nervous, and had fidgeted with the placement of my race number for 25 straight minutes in the mirror:

Take off the shirt, pin it on, put on the shirt Does that look crooked? Perhaps… Take off the shirt again, re-pin the number, put on the shirt again… wash, rinse, repeat.

It wasn’t too eventful, getting to the race. It wasn’t until I lined up for it when I realized Wow. I’m doing this. I hope I make it… It was the feeling you get in anticipation of going over the crest of the biggest hill on a rollercoaster.

I might throw up. I might throw up. Am I going to throw up?

I didn’t. After the gun went off, I didn’t think twice about throwing up. It was because of the music…

My nervousness slipped away while getting into my running groove. I listened to the sweet beatz of the Beatles and Jay-Z, DJ Danger Mouse and Lil Wayne, Rockapella and

Edward Sharpe…

“Oh, Lord. I’m coming home…”

I was pumped up by Shakira and her theme song for the World Cup 2010:

“The pressure’s on; you feel it
But you got it all; believe it
When you fall get up oh oh
And if you fall get up eh eh..”

Then “Wavin’ Flag” came on, by K’naan, and I thought of my students who I tell to never give up when things get tough:

“When I get older, I will be stronger.

They’ll call me freedom, just like a wavin’ flag…”

Then my body fell into gear as I heard Jackson Browne:

“Gotta do what you can just to keep your love alive,

Trying not to confuse it with what you do to survive…”

In fact, I found myself unconcerned with the miles I had ahead of me. I saw the each marker pass me: mile 2… mile 4…mile 6.55, halfway point…

“…Everyone I know, everywhere I go.

People need some reason to believe…”

You could say it was the opposite of nervous anxiety: peace. I can’t fail at this. I committed to it. My family is proud of me even if I don’t finish. I’m proud of me, even if I walk. More markers went past me…mile 8… mile 9…

“…I don’t know about anyone but me.

If it takes all night. That’ll be all right...”

I passed the marker for mile 10 and knew that, at this point, this was the furthest I’d run by myself in a single race… everything I was frightened about for so many months and this was it. Right here, right now. From now on, it was just me. I was getting tired. Dig deep, Natty, it’s all heart from here on out…

 “…Running on – Running on empty

Running on – Running blind

Running on – Running into the sun…”

I saw the finish line. I saw it and wished it to be nearer. I kept running. No stopping. I raised my finger in the air as my friend, waiting at the finish, took a photo of me at mile 13.02. We’re number one. I said to my brother and sister who had run that first full marathon race with me six years ago. Always.

I crossed the finish line in 2 hours, 21 minutes, 54 seconds.

After all of this:

I had climbed mountains, suffering fatigue. I had near heat exhaustion in New Orleans. I had coughed up pollution from China’s worst furnaces.

But, at the top of those mountains, I saw the breathtaking view. I had the joy of cool water on my face after running in NOLA heat. I proved courage to keep going through grit and grime.

I fell and bloodied my knees on the first day in my brand new home, but I got up to run a couple more miles.

When you’ve been through all of that, what’s the worst one 13.1 mile run can hand you on a beautifully sunny Sunday morning? The only card 13.1 miles has left to play on is the runner’s own fear of not knowing how he/she will get to the finish line.

On that morning, I handed that fear and anxiety right back to the half marathon, told it to keep it. I wouldn’t need it any longer. I finished the race.

I pushed away the fear,

I earned my finisher’s medal,

I kept on running…on…for me.

Enjoy some pictures:

Before the race!

Mile 13.02 - number one

Crossing the finish line!

Stay hydrated! The Champion Picture!

I fell on my face, and I'm 24 years old, Part II

(This is the second post in a 3 part series. Click Part I or Part III to read more...)

I started my training in China.

Yes, that’s right, China. If you didn’t already know, or are having trouble visualizing conditions in China in the summertime, here is a quick reminder.

Sometimes visibility was 400 feet.

Much to my chagrin, the first week I tried to run 30 minutes a time, the minimal number of minutes I had to run on my training schedule… I made it 10 minutes and started walking (something I never do—just a personal thing, I guess).

That’s it! This is ridiculous. I’ll never be able to do this by myself. I thought, very angry about my physical failure and inability to be mentally positive.

I suffered the first week, but the second week seemed better. I had moved out to the countryside to be a camp counselor for some American teenagers who were studying for a couple weeks in the summer. This is how much my scenery had changed.

I felt better, but it seemed I traded in the pollution for running up MOUNTAINS. I’m going to use all capital letters there… M.O.U.N.T.A.I.N.S. Running up a 1.5 miles of mountain-grade steepness? (by the way, that's 20 straight minutes of running uphill for me, fyi) Not the most encouraging thing I've ever done.

Woof. That was a hard two weeks, too.

After a debacle where I missed an international flight, had traveled 15,500miles in 10 days, I made it back to the US and went out for a run in New Orleans…in July. (Heat index 115 degrees F)

That…wasn’t the most fun I’ve ever had, either.

What is the deal ?! I thought that if I kept running, things would be easier ?! I was not amused by this situation of training for a month and still feeling awful after a 3 mile run.

Then… it only got worse: I drove to Connecticut, where new job was, and on the first day there… the first morning, at 7am, I decided to go for a run to get to know my neighborhood. What better way to see the town, right? WRONG.

It was 7am, I was trucking along the side of a road. I was confused about which way to turn and through a glitch in the Matrix… I BIT IT.

Fell down. Stopped outright. Kaput, onto my knees. Ouch.

There was blood.

There was pain.

There was ONE, SOLE CAR at the stop sign that watched this whole occurrence…

Well, embarrassment is a sobering experience. Oh yeah, what is this car doing up at 7am on a Sunday morning? Why couldn’t you have been asleep? Go back to bed!

I didn’t even look at this car, the driver, or anything. I got back up, wincing a bit, didn’t even take a good look at the wounds, and kept right on running…

That was like the touché - icing on the cake of terrible runs. It took me 40 minutes to run 3 miles on the hilly country roads and I got back completely a wreck. I laughed. I was that delirious. I laughed, but found what I’d been looking for in all of my terrible runs, all by my lonesome:

That…was a bad run. Flat out, BAD. Yet, I still got out there. I finished it. I didn’t quit; I didn’t let it stop me. I didn’t cry. I still racked up 3 measly (but powerful) miles.

I shook off my disappointment that I ran with a bad time and started giving myself credit for continuing to run after I fell down. I felt much better. I gained the confidence to continue on.

So, the new job started, I got stressed and started working more and more. I hardly noticed weeks going by until one week before the official race when I got food poisoning (oh, lentil soup). With my insides turned to liquid and my energy seeping out of my fingertips… (dramatic, I know), I had my doubts, after I had gained all that confidence.

To make a long story short, I was determined to start this half marathon; unsure of whether or not I could physically handle it. I had been dehydrated for the better part of a week; I couldn’t eat well or at all.

Then, race day came…

(Proceed to Part III)

The Fairy Tale, Part I

(This is the first installment in a 3 part post, click Part II or Part III to read on..) 


Fairy Tale Story Time:

Once upon a time, there was a young soccer player. She was dedicated to sports an team effort, but despite her drive, she was not one of the better players on the team. At this point, her older brother saw an opportunity. He, a strapping man about to have his first child with his new wife,  said, “Young sister, would you perhaps like to run a race with me?”

“What is a race? Running?” she replied.

“Yes, a running race. We can get our other sister to do it with us! It shall be fun.”

“What joy! Ok, I’m in,” the young soccer player said, unknowing of what she had just signed up to do.

“Promise to do it with me?”

“Promise.”

“Final answer?” he asked again, tentatively.

“Yes,” she said. “How long is the race?”

“26.2 miles.”

----

The rest is history.

Yes, I ran my first marathon just a few months after I turned 18. It was rough, fatiguing, made me sore, and was the most incredible experience of my life. I ran it with my brother and sister.

Since then, my running habits come in waves: Sometimes I’ll train for a bit and do a 10K on Thanksgiving, sometimes do the random 5K, I trained for a couple half marathons with my sister. “It’s what we do,” I figured, “bonding.”

This past year, with so much stress in moving to China, from China, into a new area, into a new job, and trying to stay sane through all of it, I needed something to keep me focused and give me some stability. Running would do it.

I signed up for the Westchester half marathon with a couple things plaguing me:

1)   Would I be able to train, all by myself? Without the support of others?

2)   Would I be too stressed to train at all?

3)   What happens on the days that I’m tired, where’s the motivation to run 6 miles when you’ve had 5 hours of sleep the night before?

4)   Would I be able to do it?

Some would think of me as a masochist (signing up and paying 50 bucks registration to put myself through the hell of running 13.1 miles). Personally, I like to refute the fact that I could be a masochist, and reply that I like challenges.

I didn’t know I could run 26.2 miles.

I didn’t know whether or not I could learn Chinese.

I didn’t know I would cry during Harry Potter VI ?!

                        Sometimes, though, one just needs to leap with neither regard nor consideration for how long the fall will be or how deep the water is at the bottom…

(Proceed to Part II)

Wow. Vacation = over.

Hey there, Kiddos!

I am back in action after being out of commission for the past couple months. I have gone up, down, sideways, left, right -- not to mention North South East and West -- for about 10 weeks. I am tired. I am hungry (but that's no one's fault but my own, I need to go to Whole Foods..), and I am fully moved into my new Connecticut apartment.

That's right. I live in Connecticut. I am nearly 30 miles from NYC and am very psyched to be here. I must say, though, it is relatively different from my home in Nanjing. For one: my current town is ~60,000 people. My town of Nanjing, in The China? ~8,000,000 people. The other difference is that I've not developed a hacking cough just yet from living in Connecticut (but I don't think I will)... I miss The China very much, yes, but one thing I will not miss is "The China Cough", which every foreigner cultivates (with a sense of pride, yup) after living in The China for any significant amount of time.

In essence, moving to CT was a very long and arduous process. I have endured many a long night. This is just a quick rundown of what I've been subjected to in the past few months (some of them were my own fault, though... I'm not perfect):

1) missing my train from Nanjing to Shanghai (where I was to depart from The China)
2) missing my flight home to the US (oops, Mom did not enjoy that phone call.. "Oh, MY LANTA~")
3) dealing with a snooty, entitled Chinese driver of a Toyota who drove the wrong way down a one way street, backing up 5 cars coming the other direction -- SEE: red-headed fury, friends.
4) UMMM --- MEETING MC HAMMER ON A PLANE TO THE WEST COAST -- this was incredible -- he's so old now, I had to ask which one he was -- nevertheless, I got to tell him my grandma made me purple parachute pants when I was...oh wait, that's right... EIGHT YEARS OLD, because (oh yes...I'd forgotten..) THAT'S WHEN YOU WERE POPULAR, MR. HAMMAH-TIME. (and some say I'm subtle).
5) traveling 15,548miles within 10 days (and that was only 1 flight across seas... the others were all mini flights/drives)
6) having to pack up my entire life by myself, put it in boxes, then realize I've forgotten the laundry that I did the day before in the washing machine
7) 36 hours of road tripping
8) broke the tip of my toe (I got through 13 months of living in The China without getting injured and my 2nd day back in the States I stub my toe and voila-- broken .. what luck.)

and the final travesty I've been subjected to since arriving in the US :

9) the unfortunate circumstance that people in the US can understand what I say on most days ... which leaves me at a loss for when I want to say exactly what comes to my head when I stub my toe and break it...

and for now... enjoy this montage of pictures :

"Firmly push forward the construction of the New Communist Countryside" (to urge local population to want a newer, more modern, but communist, era for rural Chinese)

"Chinese Communist Party"

Makeshift 4th of July Cookout -- celebrate any way you can, folks.

Connor and I roasting our own tea leaves at the teahouse

Our group of boys on the Rustic Pathways trip -- after drying our hand-picked tea leaves

Anniversary and Living Easy

So I wake up in the morning and I feel like a rock star or, as they say in translated Chinese, Super Cute-girl !! ^^ But you must be asking why…. Well, I shall tell you.

Today is my first anniversary of living in China. You…might not be excited. Me? I’m glad I’m still alive. 

Between open manholes and unclean street food (both of which I’ve encountered), I’ve stayed well and relatively healthy while living in China…still !!

I wake up and proceed to wake the boys up for school. --- Oh yeah, did I tell you I’m living as house mom for five 16 year old boys while they discover a truly Chinese experience in rural Yunnan Province?? In any case, I am.

So I wake the boys up. I take one with me to go buy breakfast and I take them to school in the small van we conveniently call “the short bus” (mainly because the driver’s name is Mr. Short). We are headed up to Dali University for class.

What’s so special about Dali University? Besides the fact that it is fengshui’d in the shape of a butterfly, it is also on the side of this mountain overlooking Lake Erhai. I don’t think the weather could have welcomed my 1^st anniversary in a better way. I’ll just let pictures tell the story. But, keep in mind when you look at these photos that a strong wind blows in your face as you squint into the sun.

The dirty streets of Shanghai drift away; violence and corruption take a seat; taxes and bills are a faint thought; homework and exams hardly make their way onto the horizon.

This is a paradise, un-claimable by Wal-Mart, untouched by Meijer, and un-impressionable by any man who walks around in a fancy suit pretending to be important.

Life exists on a different plane here. Life is suddenly clear and uncomplicated. Life is simple; and simply put, life is easy. Enjoy these photos I took this morning:

I've Moved!!

Instead of living in my quaint little Chinese town of 8 million (that’s Nanjing, baby), I now live in a real town of Dali, located in southwestern China.

The final days of my program were so exciting and busy. I wrote about 10,000 characters in essays and did some presentations (all of which were conducted in Mandarin). Some of you may think this isn’t a big deal, BUT I’ll tell you, this is a big deal for me. I graduated from a graduate program conducted completely in Mandarin Chinese! Take that all you teachers who said I could never learn this language!

I graduated, the ceremony was beautiful, yadda yadda but the best part, by far, was that my diploma is bright pink! Who would have thought Johns Hopkins could be so fashionable (and Asian) at the same time?!

Nevertheless, I packed up (which always takes me 50billion hours) and headed out to a small town of Dali, in Yunnan Province, to act as a manager for a study abroad program for high school students who come over to China to learn about China and Mandarin! It’s through a company called Rustic Pathways (had to give a little shout out…Woot!)

I arrived in Dali on June 20 and it was raining cats and dogs. This was so harsh. After 13 hours of traveling, (taxi, plane, taxi, bus, taxi…), rain wasn’t the way I was looking to be welcomed into my new home.

Either way, Dali is awesome. There are so many more minority groups in this province! For those of you who don’t know, let me give you a bit of history on minorities in China for those who DO know about minorities in China, please skip down to O~(o.O)~o:

China has 56 ethnic groups. Most of China’s population, about 96%, is Han Chinese. The other 55 ethnic groups are minorities and all have their own language, attire, education, culture, and customs. These minorities range in populations numbering just under 3,000, to over 1 million (and yes, a group of people number over 1 million is STILL a minority in China, there are a lot of people over here, by the way). Yunnan province boasts a whopping 25 ethnic minorities, most of which are the Bai, Dai, Yi, Hani, Naxi, etc.

O~(o.O)~o

Ok—So I’ve been busy getting ready for the kiddos to arrive but had a few hours to take some photos. I thought I’d share. This is a woman is of the Bai minority:

Another photo I took my first day in Dali:

It’s quiet, it’s beautiful, it’s laid back. I don’t want to leave!!