My first REAL Thanksgiving

True, from first glance, it seems as though my Thanksgiving in China is about the furthest thing from a real Thanksgiving you could imagine. I thought that, too, for most of the day. But, when it really comes down to the meaning of the holiday - being thankful for what you have - when else have I felt the full force of emotion?

Most of the time, I cart myself to two family Thanksgivings. We eat, talk, do crafts, etc. But do I really reflect on what I'm thankful for that year? No, not really. It's the same routine, every year, and it has been for pretty much my whole life. About the biggest change I've ever had is what house we're going to be at. Then, this year, I find myself in China, which is about the closest to an alternate universe I'll ever be.

But, when is a better time to reflect on what I'm thankful for at home than a time when I'm deprived of so many of the comforts of home that I took for granted in the past? That's not to say that I didn't know I lived a privileged life..but there are quite a few things that I've learned from living in China that make me realize how much we have in America that so many other people don't.

No, I didn't have turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, or pumpkin pie today. Those will come on Saturday, in Beijing, in what will probably be the most appreciated Thanksgiving meal of my life. Today, I had Chinese food at the restaurant down the street. I ate in a scarf and my winter coat, because they don't have any heat...they just have the best food on the block. I drank wine and ate dark chocolate while watching a movie with the girls that I probably wouldn't survive China without.

I've had some time today to reflect on what I'm thankful for. (In no special order).

1. My family. My family has always been a given in my life. Growing up, my closest friends and playmates were my cousins. I saw my aunts, uncles and grandparents multiple times a month. We have family dinners often, and get together for birthdays. Everyone is in Ankeny, or at least close enough to jump in my car and head their way whenever I feel like it. Everyone is within reach. I think the longest I've ever gone in my life without seeing my grandparents is maybe six weeks, and that was probably only when grandma and grandpa Lamberti were in Arizona in the winter. Even then, we almost always had a family dinner of some sort pretty soon after they got back. It's been three, almost four, months now that I haven't seen anyone in person. Both sides of my family lost someone this past year...but I think what speaks the most about our losses is that we were always there for each other. Strength comes from knowing that it's okay to share both laughter and tears, and knowing that everyone around you understands.

2. The Internet. Or, rather, the age of communication. I haven't been able to see any of my family or friends in person, but I have the internet. I have Skype and Facebook and e-mail, and many other forms of communicating with the people I care about back home. As I know from my failed attempt at mailing letters back home, it takes a month or more for mail to reach the USA from China. (Hey, remember all those jokes you've heard about American postal workers being lazy?? China takes the cake...) I can say, without a doubt, that I wouldn't make it the full semester, let alone the year, if I were doing this in the era of snail mail. I want instant results and communication. Save for the time difference, pretty much everything is at my fingertips... Well, except when the internet goes out in our building.

3. No internet blocks! Not here, of course. But realizing that I needed to jump through all these extra hoops of finding a VPN just to access the websites I used on a daily basis really hits home being here in China. It makes me realize just how much information I have access to at home, pretty much whenever and wherever I want it. Have a question? Pull up Google on your smartphone. Boom! Answered. I've gotten so used to having pretty much any information I want at my fingertips that it's really saddening to think of a government denying people something that seems so...common.

4. Water. I knew coming there that the water situation would be quite different than what I'm used to at home. There have still be a few shocks, however. I already knew that I wouldn't be able to drink the tap water here. It's pretty much a given that I can't drink tap water anywhere outside of the US and Western Europe. The water machine that I was given is great. The only problem is that I have to go through Mr. Dong to get it, and he seems to be under the impression that we drink too much water. I ask for a new water thing roughly once a week, which costs 8 kuai. That's a little more than a dollar, so it's not like I'm spending a ridiculous amount of money. Here's the deal, though. Mr. Dong used to be really terrible about actually calling and getting water delivered to us. We'd go two or three weeks having to scrape by with just buying water bottles from the bodega next door. The next meeting, we decided to ask for two of the Culligan things so we wouldn't have to bother him so much. It seemed like a good solution. Instead, he called us selfish for wanting so much water. I'm sorry, sir, for wanting access to basic drinking water that I'm paying for. He's much better about it now, but it still rubs me the wrong way that I was called selfish for wanting water. WATER! It makes me realize how good we have it back home, where I can just grab a glass and turn on the sink if I'm thirsty.. I don't have to worry about either finding purified water or boiling it first before I drink it. I'm also thankful for hot tap water, which isn't a thing here. All water from the sink is cold. Ice cold. Which doesn't really seem like a big deal during the summer, until either a) it's winter, your apartment doesn't have heat, and you need to wash your hands; or, b) you think about the fact that there are literally a billion people running around who haven't properly de-germed themselves with hot water and soap after doing things that we don't need to talk about in this blog. Hand sanitizer is your best friend. I'm probably going to spend an embarrassing amount of time in the Chicago airport bathroom, just running my hands under warm water. 'Merica.

5. Toilets. I am so, so, so thankful for American toilets. I will never turn my nose up at a gas station restroom again in my life. Okay, okay. I've used squatter toilets before. They had them in Uganda. That's not even the beginning. Squatters on a train? Who was the genius who thought of that? Moving on from squatter toilets, I'm thankful that toilets in America flush. You don't know deprivation until you can't flush toilet paper in your own home. When the news was abuzz with all the talk of the 7 billion people mark, I showed my senior class a video from National Geographic that highlighted a bunch of things about world population. One of the things it talked about was how a large percentage of the world doesn't have access to water or adequate plumbing. That's China. If I would have watched that video at home, I would have been struck by how sad of a fact that is.. but now I'm living it. Thankfully, only until June. That's something else I'm thankful for. Even when I do complain, I get to leave in June, and go back home.

6. Politics. That's a weird thing to be thankful for, right? And, I'm pretty sure no one else in America has politics on their Things I'm Thankful For list, even politicians. Everyone is sick of campaign ads and debates... except me. I'm missing out on the Iowa Caucus, and that really sucks. I'm also going to be missing the Iowa Capitol come January, and that sucks even more. Because, really, as much as everyone complained about the legislature stalling this year (me included), I love that we have the ability to do it. I love that we have two parties who have the right to disagree with each other, and stall, and offer alternatives, and fight, and whine to the press, and make stupid little pins that say things like "Stop Gronstalling" or have weird pictures of Paul McKinley that make him look a little bit like Albert Einstein. Because, what's the alternative? No voice? No dissent? No fighting? No, thanks.

7. Going hand in hand with that, I'm thankful for my rights as an American. I miss rights and feeling like I have freedom.

8. I'm thankful that, save for a few weirdos at the bar, no strangers in America take my picture or attempt to hand me their baby. Seriously, I'm a freak show in China for no reason other than the fact that I'm white. It's pretty much impossible to go anywhere without having someone take your picture, take their picture with you, hand you their child for a picture, scream hello at you, literally stop and point at you, stand behind you and repeat everything you say, etc., etc. I'm thankful that, for the most part, people in America think it's pretty rude to do these things to people just because they look different than them.

9. I'm thankful for the unexpected surprises. I was having a pretty rough morning/early afternoon, missing home and missing things like crossword puzzles and nail polish and all the stupid little comforts of home that you don't realize are a big deal until you just flat don't have them. Then, I got to my last class of the day, my Junior 1s. They remembered from last week that I told them we would be talking about Thanksgiving today, and when I walked in, they all immediately stood up and yelled, "Happy Thanksgiving, Miss Mary!!" to me. Two girls came up and gave me hand-made Thanksgiving cards with drawings of turkeys and pumpkins. Small things like that make you stop wallowing in self-pity and actually smile. Other funny things this class did: one boy was so excited over the pictures of Thanksgiving food that he started rocking himself back and forth while repeating the words, "so delicious". Also, in Chinese, 'ta' can me he/she/it, and a lot of beginners get those mixed up sometimes. Upon seeing the Thanksgiving food, many of the kids wanted to express to me how delicious they thought the food looked. Mostly, this took the form of people shouting out, "Delicious!" or, "Tasty!" until one boy attempted to form a full sentence -- "I want to eat her!!"

10. Heat. I have never known a winter without heat, until now. I spent roughly three weeks freezing in my apartment until "the government" turned the heat on, on November 15th. The heat will be shut off by "the government" on March 15th. I'm thankful that, at home, we have the decision of when we want to turn our heat on or off, and what temperature we want to set it. (Although, dad, if you're reading this, we don't live in the tundra. We could bump the heat up a few notches next year.) But, this also boils down to the fact that I'm thankful that the government kind of butts out of my everyday life. There are so many questions in China that are just met with the response, "The government says". It's maddening.

Happy Thanksgiving! Eat an extra slice of pumpkin pie for me. :)

Three months in China

This week is the 3rd month mark for how long I've been living in China.


I wasn't really going to blog about it. Nothing super significant has happened, besides our visit to Mr. Fu's hometown, which I'm going to add in a few days. However, we got an e-mail from Kirk this morning that I thought fit perfectly.


Here's the link: Culture Shock in case you want to read it in full by yourself. I'm adding it because there are parts from this website that I feel like I could have written myself. It was as though the author read my mind.


This website was perfect because it is about culture shock specific to China.

"A great deal has been written about the nature of the culture shock experienced, to varying degrees, by all foreigners in China. Essentially, just about everything is different: currency, food, available merchandise, mores and ethics, social customs and traditions, personal hygiene, medical care and family life, not to mention the physical and natural environment, to name but the major ones."

Embarrassingly, I went into my year in China with the belief that I wouldn't really feel much culture shock. This was in part because I don't feel like I've ever really experienced severe culture shock when I've traveled. That isn't to say that I didn't think there would be differences. That would be stupid. Of course I knew there would be differences. In the past, though, I've always been able to see all of the similarities between my culture and the culture of the place I'm visiting. I was naive in the sense that I figured if I could go to Uganda and not feel a huge amount of culture shock, how bad could China be?

It also didn't help that pretty much everyone I know who has visited China has only been to Beijing. Maybe Hong Kong, and a few Taiwan, if that even counts. Cool. That's like coming to visit the US, only going to New York or Los Angeles, and telling me that you know all about American culture. I wonder how your trip would be different if you were dropped in the middle of, oh, I don't know.. Mississippi?

I'm not saying this to discount the people who have spent extended amounts of time in those cities in China; of course, any amount of time spent abroad is difficult. What I'm trying to say is that their experiences didn't really prepare me for my experience in Shijiazhuang. What I wasn't ready for was this: Essentially, just about everything is different. I really didn't expect that. Everything? Come on.

No, really. Everything.

The website also talks about the four stages of culture shock in China, which I'm going to highlight parts of..

1. Excitement or Honeymoon

"When you first arrive in China, you will very likely experience an exhilarating sense of excitement and adventure. You will think to yourself "I can't believe I'm finally in China," and you will be fascinated and overwhelmingly impressed by all the "exotic" differences in culture you will encounter."

Very true. And, I think this is true of almost any place you would travel. It is for me, at least. There's a total sense of excitement and an adrenaline rush just from getting the chance to be somewhere new, somewhere different. I got such a rush just from saying, "I'm living in China." Living in China. Wow. Who does that?

2. Withdrawal or Negotiation

"Usually, within a month or so, that sense of excitement will eventually give way to new and unpleasant feelings of frustration and anger as you continue to have unfavorable encounters that strike you as strange, offensive, and unacceptable. These reactions, for most Westerners, are typically centered around the formidable language barrier as well as stark differences in: public hygiene; traffic safety; the type and quality of the food; the unavailability of creature comforts; poor, grossly unreliable, or nonexistent customer service; the manner in which agreements and contracts are disregarded or continuously changed and, related; the feeling that one is constantly being cheated or lied to."

I think we can all recognize that I fully reached this stage when I had my issues with customs. I had a terrible time trying to wrap my mind around the idea that the rules could be changed seemingly on the whim of the "Chinese government" or customs agents. I understand that there are sometimes taxes on packages shipped because of weight or something similar. In talking to other Drake students who have received packages and been asked to pay taxes, however, it doesn't seem as though there is really a system to decide how much or what packages to tax. My first package? I was asked to pay taxes, then didn't have to. My second package? Weighed much more than the first, no mention of taxes. Sarah got a package that was smaller than both of mine, but had to pay a fee that was much larger than I've ever been asked to pay. No system. I also had problems because Chinese customs was trying to tell me that I had too many personal items in my personal package. What I didn't understand is that Fed Ex is an international company and a huge part of their business is international shipping. They have a list that anyone can access that states what the Chinese government has said will be allowed or not allowed to be shipped to people living there. You would think that would be the end of the discussion, if all of your items fit the bill. Not in China!! I still don't fully understand why I had to jump through all the hoops I did. Personally, I feel as though part of it was just the government wanting to mess with an American, which brings me to...

"...the feeling that one is constantly being cheated or lied to."

Yes. Oh my God, yes. If I hear someone say the word "cunning" within the first six months after I return to the US, I will have to fight extremely hard to resist the urge to punch them in the kidneys. 

I get that Americans have the stereotype of being more direct in negotiations and conversations than the Chinese. Or, I thought I did. I really don't think you can prepare yourself for the kind of talking in circles, and sometimes outright lies, that you have to deal with when you get to China. This happened with our diplomas. We were told before coming here that "saving face" is a big deal in China. People would rather lie (be "cunning") than admit that they were wrong, even if everyone involved in the conversation knows they're wrong. The other three foreign teachers here had brought Mr. Dong colored copies of their diploma, so he was under the impression that these were their original copies. The three of us had only brought black and white copies. No one else in the program had any issue with getting their foreign expert permit with their black and white copy, including the other people in Shijiazhuang. Mr. Dong, however, apparently didn't want to "lose face" with the government office by bringing in three "original" diplomas and three photocopies. He decided he wanted all six to be original, and told us that we would have to have our parents ship us our original diplomas. There was no way that was going to happen, and we knew he was lying pretty much from the beginning. 

Our first tactic was the direct route: "Well, Mr. Dong, there are ten other people from Drake in Shijiazhuang and all of them were able to get their permit with their photocopy. Why is it that our school is the only school that can't?"

This was met with, "I will struggle with them. I will ask them why they are being unfair to us." Basically, he tried to make himself out to be the hero. I would just like to point out that, by this time, he actually was already in possession of our foreign expert permits. Like, he was actually holding them in his hand while he was telling us that he still needed our original diplomas. Magically, he was able to get them in time for us to take them to the office where we got our residency permits.

Even after he gave us our residency permits, he still continued to pester us. He told us that we needed our original diplomas sent because he needed to show them to the government so they could "check" that they were real.

Our next tactic was just to ignore him. Every time he would bring it up, we would all just stop talking and stare. That's another thing about China...people really hate feeling awkward. I mean, that's true of people everywhere, but it's especially true here. They will giggle, walk away, try by any means to avoid feeling awkward. The thing about being an American in China, though, is that you feel awkward roughly 99.9% of the time. Trust me, if there's a skill I will have learned by the time I get home, it will be that I can out-awkward pretty much anyone. You can't make me feel more uncomfortable than you; my existence is uncomfortable. I've come to terms with it. Try me.

This worked pretty well. If we stopped talking about it and just kind of nodded and looked away, he would just trail off and stop asking for our diplomas.

We figured we were successful, because we hadn't heard from him in a while. Until a few weeks ago, when some sort of inspectors came to our school. I'm pretty sure that their job is just to come, make sure the school has permits for us, and then they give the school this paper certificate that says they're an "International School". Mr. Dong had us give him our foreign expert permits to show the inspectors. No big deal. Then, he asked for our original diplomas to be shipped again. 

We were prepared. If he was going to lie to us, I was going to lie right back. "Oh, Mr. Dong, I'm so sorry. Our parents cannot send the original diploma. You see, our university only gives each person one original diploma, and our parents have already framed it so it cannot be taken out and sent. In order to get another original diploma with the school's seal on it, they would need a letter from the middle school and $50 per diploma to be able to send it."

BOOM!

We haven't heard about the diplomas since.

The downside, of course, is that I feel terrible about it. I mean, it's been drilled into me since I was a kid that this kind of outright lie is bad. You don't do it. I don't think I'll ever like the kind of verbal dancing that occurs here just to get something simple done. We've all known since roughly September 1st that we didn't need to have original diplomas. Mr. Dong knew it, we knew it, and he knew that we knew it. So why did we waste so much time talking about it?

"You will find that you severely dislike the culture and will experience intermittent feelings of anxiety and depression characterized by a demonstration of animosity, a short-temper, a strong sense of "being stuck," and a frequent tendency to criticize and mock the people and their culture."

Also very true. I already have a very short-temper (what up, being Irish and Italian?), but I can definitely see times in China where it's been worse. For example, the time I lost it on the customs agent. Was it really necessary for me to tell him that his government was, "the most inefficient system I could possibly think of"? No, not at all. In fact, my entire conversation with him was the definition of being culturally insensitive. I think it served a purpose, though. I got all of my rage out. While I still experience moments of anger and annoyance at similar situations, I also realize that I successfully got through it. I received my package. Was it timely? Hell no. Was it the way it would have happened in America? No, not at all. But did it turn out alright? Yes. That's the most important part.

For the last part of stage two,

"In fact, the psychosocial adjustment required of Westerners is so enormous, it is estimated that up to 50 percent of all new expats eventually leave China earlier than planned."

FIFTY percent? Holy cow. I was truly surprised by this number, but then again, I'm facing less than a full year here. Maybe if I had signed on for a two or five year contract, I'd be one of those 50% as well. I guess I'll never know. It really does speak volumes about the Drake program, though, that it's been successful for so many years. Yes, people have gone home early in past years, people will go home early this year, and people will go home early in the future. But so many more people stay. I'll get to that in a little bit, but I personally believe that most of the credit here goes not to us, but to Kirk. Not only do we all know that we can turn to him if there is truly a problem at our schools that we can't solve, but he tries his best to place us together or close to others so we don't feel alienated.

3. Adjustment stage

"For those who have managed to develop a sufficient social support system, stage 2 will eventually segue into an adjustment period during which time the individual begins to feel more settled-in and confident as life becomes considerably more routine and predictable, which often tends to coincide with the acquisition of some Chinese language skills and the ability to minimally communicate around basic needs without assistance. The individual will feel far less isolated, and will regain his or her sense of humor. I still remember the enormous sense of satisfaction and comfort I derived the very first time I was able to verbally instruct the taxi driver where I wanted to be taken in Chinese."

I feel like I'm straddling the line between stages two and three. In the time I'm in China, I'll never feel fully adjusted or comfortable. I didn't really expect to. I'm an American down to my bones, for better or worse. I'll also never be fluent in Chinese. At best, I'll know enough to get myself around. I love learning languages. I'm definitely not a whiz at learning new languages, but I'm pretty good. That doesn't seem to be the case with Chinese. I know a few words and phrases, and can tell taxi drivers how to get me to my school or some of the places I go often..but no matter how hard I try, the words still sound like disconnected noises instead of words.

What has gotten me to feel as though I'm straddling the line between stages two and three is that Lauren, Emily, and I are able to find so much humor in all the crap we have to deal with daily. We complain to each other, sure, but in the end, we try to find the humor in most of it. That makes it so much easier to cope with Mr. Dong or Fed Ex or whatnot; instead of releasing our anger on them, we come home and make it funny.

4. Assimilation

"After a period of time of living in the country, one begins to realize that he or she now feels "at home" in China. What used to drive you crazy in the beginning now seems mundane or insignificant (or will simply be unattended to), and you will actually start identifying several characteristics or features of the culture that you genuinely prefer to your own. In addition, you will notice that you have gradually incorporated (assimilated) several traits or behaviors from the new culture, such that if you were to return to your native country, you would in fact experience something of a reverse culture shock."

Okay, I'll probably never be assimilated into Chinese culture. That's fine. I do feel as though my apartment is "home", but more in the sense of this is my place of residence for the time being, not my true home.

To wrap up, I'm going to talk about what I thought was the most important part of the article: coping strategies. 

"You can increase the likelihood of adjusting more quickly and easily by trying to establish a social support system as soon as possible (preferably during the honeymoon period). Seek out other foreign teachers you have something in common with and use them as a "sounding board" during the rough periods. In addition, and this is especially important, try to establish at least one friendship with an English-speaking Chinese colleague. Having an "insider" on your side who can be there for you to interpret, explain, and even negotiate some of the more frustrating differences you are struggling with will go a very long way in easing your transition. In short, you need a support group. The very last thing you should do is withdraw and isolate yourself from other people, even though this is most likely what you will feel like doing."

My experience in China would be so different if I didn't have Emily and Lauren to be able to spend time with and vent to. The boys and Iraise are also a big help in just having people here that I can relate to and who experience the same feelings and problems as I do. 

It also helps a lot to be able to talk to people back home, pretty much whenever I want - save for the few times that the internet has been out. (And I felt as though my life was crashing down, haha...) I don't know what I would do if I had to rely on snail mail only; I probably wouldn't make it.

The last piece of the support system puzzle is knowing that we have Kirk there if we have any problems. I think this helps me sort out what issues are real and what are just me being spoiled. I ask myself, "Is this a real issue that I need to ask Kirk to take care of because I can't myself, or am I just annoyed because this isn't the level of western comfort I'm used to?" See: internet issues.

All in all, it's been three months! Some days it feels as though I just got here; some days it feels as though I can't believe I still have until the end of June. I think having countdowns to certain events help me greatly, though. Blondie's here in one month (yay!) and my parents are here in two! Surprisingly, that helps the time go even faster. 

This article really helped me, because it showed me that I'm kind of on-track. At least, my feelings are normal.

WIPEOUT!

Last Wednesday, I had my first 15 minutes of fame... on a Chinese game show.

If you've ever watched SpikeTV and seen those embarrassing shows where people go on obstacle courses over water and pretty much everyone falls off, I'm sure you've wondered, "What in the world possesses people to agree to be on that show?!"

I'm here to tell you.

It was quite easy, really. Aaron called me and said that his friend who works for a TV show needed two foreigners to be on an episode of a show that is similar to Wipeout! and asked if I wanted to do it with him. Being my natural adventurous and adrenaline-rush seeking self, I quickly agreed. Lauren and Emily were asked by Mr. Dong the same day if they wanted to tape an all-foreigners episode the day before I would tape mine. We were in it together.

We're in China, right? Why not?

All I knew going into the show was that I would be on an obstacle course over water, and my objective was to get to the end, even if I fell off. They wanted us to wear bathing suits, which, quite frankly, wasn't going to happen on TV.

I met Aaron and Sarah, who had come along to take pictures, at the TV station a little before 12:30 that Wednesday. We were told that someone would come meet us out front at that time and show us to the bus we'd be taking to the studio. The place where they filmed the show was about an hour and a half outside Shijiazhuang. We stood outside until 1 PM, and no one had come to get us. Aaron called his friend multiple times, and he said that someone was coming. Finally, at 1 PM, we walked over to a bus that had been sitting outside, wondering if that was it. We had previously decided that it couldn't be, because it was full, and no one had bothered to come over and ask us if we were the foreigners doing the show. We were wrong. It was our bus. They had just all been watching us for the last half hour, instead of telling us where to go. Typical.

We got on the bus and headed out for the studio. The place we filmed was pretty neat. It was a spa resort. By American standards, it was kind of cheap-looking. By Shiz standards, though, it was one of the nicest places I've seen since arriving in China. So, hey.

Aaron and I had put together little speeches in Chinese - our name, age, where we're from, what we're doing here, how long we've been in China, etc. We were informed upon arrival that we didn't need to know how to say that. Instead, they taught Aaron how to say something along the lines of Congratulations for winning, and taught me how to say, "I want 1000 kuai!!" Those were the lines we were supposed to tell the game show hosts before it was our turn to do the obstacle.

At the beginning of the show, we were all crowded together for the opening shot. There were the hosts, the weird tiger mascot, a row of girls in referee-type cheerleading costumes, and all the participants. Naturally, Aaron and I were shoved to the front. We were clearly the main attraction.

As the first participant headed toward the obstacle course, Aaron and I were positioned right next to the hosts, and instructed, "Dance! Cheer! Yell! WOO HOO!"

While the first four or five people attempted the obstacle course, one of the camera men was instructed to keep his camera on the two of us AT ALL TIMES. We danced, we sang, we "Woo hoo'ed!" We had the camera zoom in on our faces while we cheered, we counted down with the game show hosts, "Yi, er, san, si, wu!"

Finally, it was our time to go. We were asked our names and responded in Chinese. Where we were from, "MEI GUO!" (America). We said our little script, and then Aaron headed toward the obstacle course. I had to stand in between the hosts, clasping hands with the girl, as the camera watched me watching Aaron. I was supposed to gasp and scream and cheer at all the right times.

Here's how the obstacle course went down:

First, we started on a foam block to the side of the pool. A man dressed as Superman instructed us how to hold our arms, as we had to pose like Superman while spinning in a circle five times. Next, we had to somersault across a foam balance beam to the edge of the pool. After regaining our balance, we had to run and jump across four floating blocks, landing on the anchored fifth. The blocks were huge, tied together, and balancing only on water. I think only two people actually made it across without falling. After making it to the platform, we had to climb up a big, white iceberg-shaped blow up thing. The side was like a rock wall, but it was on a tall object floating in the water. Because it was China, some of the places where you were supposed to put your feet had broken off, so there was a rope running up the side that you could pull yourself up on as well. Once you reached the top, you could either jump or climb down. There was a massive water trampoline that you landed on. Hanging above the trampoline was a banner that you had to jump up and grab. Standing in your way, however, were two people dressed as superheroes who jumped at you, grabbed you, and generally tried to block you from getting the banner. Once you were successful, you had to bail out over the side of the trampoline into a waiting boat, pull yourself to the edge of the pool by the rope, and get out. Then, there was an incline with a rope that you climbed up to reach the platform. They asked a question in Chinese. If you answered correctly, you got 1000 kuai. If you answered incorrectly, they pushed you over the edge back into the pool.

Males had 120 seconds to complete the course; females had 150.

I started off my chance at the obstacle course facing the wrong way. Apparently, I was supposed to stare directly into the camera as I was spinning. Remember, the foreigners were the highlight of this show. I spun and somersaulted, and landed on the platform. I was surprised at how dizzy I felt. You don't think that only  5 spins and 2 somersaults are going to make you that off balance. I put my arms out, balanced myself, and took off at a run across the blocks. I felt pretty good about making it, until I got to the third block. My foot landed off to the side, instead of in the middle. I felt the block start to shift to the right, and thought I could regain my balance. Nope. BAM! Fell off backwards into the water. There were also men in the water filming us, so as I came back up from underwater, there was a camera directly in my face. I laughed and swam toward the platform for the iceberg/rock wall. I love rock walls, but this one was difficult to climb because of the missing places for your feet and hands to go. (They were just broken off, it wasn't designed that way). As I got to the top, someone started playing the Spice Girls. Of course, I had to take a moment to thrust my arms in the air and sing the chorus. Music in English! Then, I jumped down and landed on the side of the trampoline. Again, it's harder than you expect to jump and reach a banner when there are two other people on the trampoline jumping around and trying to make you lose your balance. After grabbing the banner, I launched myself off the trampoline, face-first, into the boat. I have no idea why I went face first instead of just jumping in, but rest assured that Sarah got an amazingly hilarious picture of it. I got to the edge of the pool and pulled myself up to the platform. They asked me a question, I answered, "YES!" enthusiastically, because, really, I had no idea what the question was. The buzzer sounded; I was wrong. Then, I was shoved back into the pool over the edge of the platform.

After I got back out of the pool, I was directed back to the crowd behind the announcers to watch the last two participants of the obstacle course. At the end of the show, there was this weird little outro bit where the cameramen just wanted shots of all of us doing things. This old man started doing this bizarre little dance, and before we knew it, Aaron and I were shoved up next to him, having a dance-off to a Ke$ha song.

I can officially say I've lived; I'm on Chinese TV having a dance off to Ke$ha's "Blow".

Pictures to come soon!