Apparently I’m a Good Cook(?)

(Colin)

Though my last blog post was rather long, I feel that it is better to do many short ones than a weekly long one.  On that note, I shall do my best to limit this particular post to a decent length.  However, as I do have a tendency to rant, I can give no guarantees in the first paragraph.

Moving on. ...

Now then.  These last few days have been fairly uneventful from a Chinese perspective, yet to an American I suppose that they would be quite odd.  Last week, which I shall abridge to a few sentences, consisted of making kites, painting things, and learning about Beijing Opera.  As Ryan has noted in the previous blog post, Friday evening and Saturday were full of fun events.  Not much is left to be said about last week, but I can tell you now that is was a good one.

Sunday morning (of this week, not last week), my host Mother and Brother brought me to the Hangzhou Tea Museum, which was enlightening and fun.  It detailed the roots of tea-drinking in China, and made me really want to drink more hot leaf water.  Additionally, the museum was also visited by former US President Richard Nixon, which, with my visit, means that a President and a Future President have visited this humble museum.  Neat.

Despite the poor weather, the first of its kind so far, the three of us then went, umbrellas in hand, to the former residence of a prominent business man in Hangzhou.  The house featured countless courtyards, caves, and a private fleet of ducks.  The architecture was stunning, and I regretted not bringing my camera.  We exited through the gift shop, and Ray soon asked me if I wanted to go to McDonalds for lunch.  By the time he got to “alds”, I had already said yes.

Though in recent years, Micky-D’s in America have had a facelift in appearance, the McDonalds we ate at had design matching that of many fine restaurants.  The three-storied dining room featured high ceilings, chandeliers, and lacked the dusty haze seen in the rest of China.  My Big Mac was perfect, though the fries were not as numerous as I had hoped.  The rest of the day consisted of relaxing at home, and getting some work done, until dinner.

I went to dinner with my host family, where my host father and some old pals of his had a nice, private room reserved for the many people there.  The food was great, with some crab that could only be described as succulent, and some kind of mollusk that tasted like the New England Aquarium.  Ray and I went waking around after dinner, and found ourselves at the same market we had visited the week before.  Though I bought no fake Rolexes this time, I still enjoyed eyeing the wares of the vendors.  Exhausted and cold, we returned home and got some sleep.

I awoke Monday morning with a pain in my stomach.  I felt a bit off, but disregarded it as hunger.  I had a little bit for breakfast, and concluded that I was sick.  Again.  Though this was no sore throat.  I will allow my readers to fill in the rest of the time between when I ate and when we left for school.  Here’s a hint: It was not pleasant.  But, not to be beaten by a stomachache, I went to school anyway.  Our first class was “Handwork” in which we made little fleece wallets.  Despite the others quarantining me to the opposite side of the room due to whatever sickness I had, and that my wallet didn’t work properly, it was relatively fun.  Because I finished early, I got some rest on our empty classroom. 

After lunch, which I skipped for miserable pain-related reasons, we had Chinese class, in which we watched a Chinese film about Beijing Opera.  Though the film was long, difficult to follow, and it felt like I had a tennis ball rolling around in my stomach, we concluded that it was a good film.  We then went to a party that had been thrown for us.  We played Charades, Watched a few performances, and were challenged to a game that was copyright-infringingly close to “Don’t Forget The Lyrics”.  We were terrible.  But nonetheless, I shall continue.  Following the party, Ray and I returned home, where I, still feeling ill, took a brief nap.  I ate a brief dinner, which I kept down (hooray!), and went to bed.  My host family gave me some pills that were, in addition to being quite tasty, meant to make my stomach feel better.  I hoped for the best, and washed them down with water.

I awoke the next morning feeling wonderful.  I got up and was immediately barraged by my host family asking if I was all right.  I told them that I was fine, and I had breakfast.  At school, Lizzy, Ryan, Dawn, and myself went to painting class.  Last week, I painted a mystery bird (crane?) in some grass.  This time around, I painted an abstract elephant in grass, and a blossoming plum tree…in grass.  The teacher noted my overarching theme of things in grass, and I simply went with it.

We finished painting with a good half hour left before lunch.  Knowing this, we went back to our room and conversed for a while about movies, our families, why we like dogs, and why we all hate cats.  Lunch was, as always, diverse and yummy.  After Lunch, we had English Corner, where Lizzy and I talked about American Schools with a group of girls, two of whom are going to boarding school in the US next year.

After English corner, the five of us had resolved to go to a supermarket.  Dawn led us to a massive four-story behemoth selling everything from electric razors to fresh fruit.  We found ourselves in the international aisle, and Chris and I made it our quest to find Pasta Sauce.  I decided to make my host family dinner that night, so I bought spaghetti, olive oil, cheese, and sauce (from a jar.  Sorry mom).  We, unfortunately, couldn’t find any proper bread in the store, so we went to another supermarket, one that Chris goes to frequently.  The supermarket, though not as big as the last one, had many odd foods, like chickens whose only preparation had been plucking, and tiny shrimp.  Luckily, we found ourselves some French bread, and quickly got out of there.

Last period, Chris, Ryan, and Lizzy went to class 11 for a party-type function, and I went to my host brother’s class to talk about American Culture.  I didn’t really know what to say about our culture, so I gave the class a brief overview of the 1900’s from an American perspective.  Then, I was asked to write an English tongue twister on the board, next to a Chinese one.  I then invited people up to the front of the room to give it a try.  As Peter Piper Picked his Pickled Peppers, the class and I got a great kick out of people giving it a go.  Ray and I went home soon after, and, it being almost 5:30, I set to work on dinner.

Making spaghetti in China is not as easy as it sounds.  Cutting the French bread with a cleaver was rather difficult, and keeping the sauce at a decent elevation from the flame below was proving to be impossible.  Nonetheless, dinner was a success.  My host family greatly enjoyed dipping their bread in olive oil, and Ray flew through two plates of Spaghetti.  I was told that I should be a chef, and that I am a good cook.  I’m not, to be honest, but I’m always up for some ego boosting.  I went to clean up, but my host family insisted that I didn’t, which I found to be a bit awkward.  But, having satisfied three people with food, I felt that I had accomplished enough.

After dinner, Ray and I went on a walk by the West Lake, and I tried to mess with some stray cats with my new laser pointer.  The cats didn’t go for it as planned, but at least I tried.  I then used the pointer to try and point out some western constellations to ray, but the fog was so dense that very few stars were visible.  However, as my love of space is rivaled only by my love of commas, which, as you may have noticed, I use all the time, I still managed to find and point out Orion and Taurus.

That concludes this blog post, which has proved to be quite long.  My apologies.  But, referring to my initial paragraph, I do tend to ramble.