VII

Last Friday I went out with a co-worker, her cousin, and a Major in the Republic of Korea Army (ROK) who my co-worker met at semi-random work related event. The Major is attending a government run Chinese language school located near my university, where many other folks from many different countries are also intensively learning Chinese. At any rate, he knew how to drink, and it was my first odd and somewhat out of control evening in China. Not that it was actually out of control, but it was the kind of evening that was hard to come by in Indiana: going to new places and meeting strangers who in all likelihood I will never meet again. The kind of evening that one can only have living in a city, which Kunshan most definitely is at 1.5 million people. We had feast of Korean food, drank soju, beer, and a milky liquid the Major referred to as "mosquito bite." After eating we went to a bar named "Wonderful Too," where there was a band consisting of two people: a woman singer and a guy who played guitar and manned the karaoke like machine on the stage (I was told they were from the Philippines and that they played at that bar every night). They played American songs from the 70's and 80's to a mostly Chinese audience, though I saw more foreigners there than any place I've been to yet in China. We talked loudly over loud music, and opted to leave at eleven (we started at six). Had I stayed out longer, I probably would have drank more and who knows where the evening would have ended up. I'm playing things close to the hip these days though, and by that I mean I'm not comfortable enough here to completely let loose.

Earlier that I day I went out to lunch with a different co-worker and two students. They took us out to a restaurant just off campus and we ate duck with lotus root and a few other side dishes. Fried dumplings too. It was delicious, and after it was all over my students brought out a birthday cake. It was my birthday earlier in the week, and I had told my students through a small writing exercise.. Simply, I tell my students its my birthday and then ask the students to write about what they think they'll be doing when they're thirty-nine years old. Of course, nobody really knows, but I think it's rare that we actually articulate these things to ourselves, much less to each other. As I said to them, and probably wrote about in my other blog at some point, I never really imagined my life past the age of thirty-two or thirty-three. But after getting over the existential hump of feeling like I was no longer young (yes I know reader who is older than me, thirty-nine is young. yeah yeah. yeah yeah yeah. thank you for your wisdom), being older meant that I could be free of the vague visions of my future that I kept when I was younger, though in a strange way I became what I wanted to become, e.g. a writer-teacher/teacher-writer (minus the famous, respected, and comfortably settled part). Meanwhile, while they're writing I'm writing about what I was doing when I was the average age of the class, and then we share. It's fun, and sweet, and I'm always touched by what my students say. Interestingly, most folks, in a very unAmerican kind of way, in addition to their individual plans, mentioned that that would be around the age when they would be taking care of their parents.

On Saturday I worked, but on Sunday I rode my bike out to Yangcheng Lake, about a half hour West of where I live. I explored the little park on pedestrian paths that were inappropriate for a bike, but I had started down them so saw it through. I found a spot by the lake and sat out reading a book. The sun was out and the skies were mostly blue and clear, though occasionally a cloud would pass and it would get a little chilly. Others were sitting by the lake, some on blankets and some with tents, which is new trend for me: bringing tents to public parts to have a semi-private place to lie down. Two couples did this near me, but at some point a security guy came by and told them they couldn't put tents there. I least I assume that's what he said since they put their tents away after that. I continued riding my bike up along the lake, though a large urban farm, and further North for a bit, and then I turned around and came home. On the way I took pictures. Mostly of the trees painted white around their trunks. I don't know why they do this here in China and one day, probably soon, I will find out. I imagine it has to do with pest prevention, or something like that. But they do it everywhere, and very thoroughly. It is getting to be Fall here, but there are still some nice days left.