96 hours.

think for a second about the past 96 hours of your life. what did you do? go to work? see friends? sleep? cook a nutritious meal? shower?

well, i am telling you right now that i have never quite appreciated the immensity of 96 hours until this past week. that's right, folks. i spent an entire 96 hours on a train from ulaanbatar to moscow WITH NO SHOWER. at first, this seemed like a paltry sum of time, but let me tell you... after about 6 rounds of chess, one ass-whooping in poker (i beat all the boys, p.s.), 2 books, 1 movie, 24 hours on my ipod, pictures, 2 nights of drinking because, seriously, there was NOTHING better to do!, 2 subsequent hangovers, and more junk food than i ever care to remember, 96 hours is, in fact, a significant amount of time.

for a while, i was beginning to think i actually lived on that train.

jumping pictures in front of st. basils and other good things to come later. always.

asia overland

i don't have much time here, but i will say that it's hard to believe i left taipei less than a week ago. currently, i am in an internet cafe in ulaanbatar, mongolia. tomorrow we leave for our ger camps, about 7 hours away.

since i arrived, i have seen the great wall, the forbidden city, tiananmen square, the summer palace, and a smattering of other places in and around beijing. i met up with my tour, a compilation of people from australia, england, and scotland. i am the only american in the group. this never happens. they're all fantastic, a truly pleasant group to travel with.

we spent the past 2 days on a train from beijing to ulaanbatar. about 36 hours. it was simultaneously pleasant and wretched. not because the train was particularly uncomfortable, but the incurable boredom! we read, played board games, took naps, and had many a discussion. yet this is nothing, considering that we will be on trains a full 72 hours next week. yikes.

i could say oh so much more, but time's a tickin' and i don't have much of it! love, peace, and all the rest.

i said goodbye

today, i thought i was going to make it without crying. i got through k2 barely phased. i hugged them all and told them how much i love them. they're my pride and joy, my legacy, my crown jewel, those k2 kids.

then on to k4, where they sang a song for me and gave me hugs. still nothing.

at lunch, the teachers threw me a party. they each bought me an individual present, though i had to earn it. also, i might add, this party was complete with zhenzhu naicha (my favorite), zhi pie (my other favorite!), cheese cake (my favorite dessert!), and gold watermelon! wow, they know me so well! am i really that transparent? but i still held on.

i had a party with g2, but most of them cried the whole time. i couldn't help but think to myself... this has to be the worst party ever, with all these sobbing children. i cried a little.

then came s4, the mother load. i had planned to simply make some root beer floats with them because they'd find it fun and we'd be silly. but my chinese teacher apparently had a very different idea, as they wouldn't let me in when i went to get some supplies. when they finally opened the door, all my children were lined up with neon bracelets singing "please and thank you, these are the magic words..."
after that, they played "ode to joy" for me on their recorders! no joke!
then we played a game. i'd pick a name out of a bag, they'd all look at it, then i'd have to ask questions to guess who the child was. when i found them, they had to stand up and say something nice to me "thank you, teacher joy..." etc etc. then they reversed it. each child had a piece of the class letter and a number. i had to pick a number. they'd stand, give me the piece, and i'd say something personal to them. i got through most of them all right, but then we got to the ones that i've spent the greater part of my year yelling at. it's a funny thing, that yelling, because they didn't even want me to say something to them... they just started to cry uncontrollably. when this happened, i lost it and found myself sobbing in front of all these kids. apparently, the crying continued long after class was over. i don't know why that broke my heart. i guess they know i love them despite the yelling.

notes 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7

fyi:
it is entirely possible to yell at kids every day for a year, and still feel like part of your soul is being chipped away when you say goodbye. you WILL find 3 year-olds to be both completely intolerable and completely incredible. elementary students and the speeches they give WILL put your education to shame. and beating all the boys in arm wrestling WILL make you "so cool," just like it did growing up... and ultimately, for no apparent reason, this will restore peace to your classroom. the unexpected side effect is that you will also be convinced that, one day, you want to have a whole bunch of sons.

if you bring your steve madden pumps to taipei, they will not fare well because the unearthly substance they use as tile caulk in the mrt will destroy the heel, and you WILL end up dropping them into a community recycling bin along with the other 90% of your wardrobe. oh, my heart. it hurts.

doing too many things at once WILL make you forget even the most habitual tasks: finishing your bi-monthly report cards. turning off the light when you leave your apartment.
and also, the air conditioning.

the post office will never be open when you need it to be.

and the cute starbucks barista who speaks english but never asked you out because he's too intimidated will tell you that he's going to "very miss you."

note 2

fyi:
visiting a gyno in taiwan is just as equally awkward as visiting one back in the states. yikes.

and they WILL charge you 500NT to get a routine test because you're "too young."

note

fyi:
packing to traipse the globe + quitting job + moving = AHHHHHHHH!

p.s. going to the dentist cost me all of nothing this weekend. this is either because of the insurance or because i work as usas. they remembered me from all those trips with the kids.
still. huzzah!

"miss meckes... i'm sorry, but you have hepatitis b."

"it's nothing i haven't heard before."
or so the saying goes.

one thing i really love about taiwanese health care is that doctors generally believe in the body's natural defenses. unlike back home, where we pump ourselves with over-the-counter medication, vaccines, antibiotics, and prescription drugs, the taiwanese are very wary of putting foreign agents into our bodies. i've been hard-pressed to find cough syrup, niquil, ibuprofin, or even aspirin. in fact, i brought most of those supplies, and the closest i've gotten here are multivitamins and those packets of vitamin c that you mix in with hot water and drink when you're sick. i know, it seems cruel for women to live without ibuprofin, but their solution to those unbearable cramps is to simply drink more warm liquids. i have tested this theory over the course of a month, and it actually works. i'm a believer in luke-warm water these days. but upon visiting doctors, they usually try to find other alternatives to your problems. herbs. getting more sleep. less stress in your life. staying warmer.

i've learned to appreciate the simplicity of those solutions. back home, i found myself merely wanting a pill that would allow me to live the exact same way, when the obvious solution was to just slow down.

naturally, their reluctance to putting medicine into your system also translates to things like x-rays and, of course, vaccinations. wow, my mom would love it here.

that's why, when i came calling to a local clinic looking for my hepatitis booster shots, they suggested that i DON'T get them. really? i thought. because i'm supposed to. it's what i read on the who website. though they also told me to get the japanese e. vaccine, and NOBODY carries it! "it only boosts you another 5%, maybe. and you're young and healthy. we should just check your antibody count. if they're high enough, it won't even be necessary for a month of travel. and as for japanese e., they only have that for children. at 22, if you don't already have it, it's unlikely that you'll get it." when all was said and done and he'd answered all my questions, i consented to simply checking my antibodies and going from there. besides, checking the antibody count was expensive enough... i can't imagine what they'd charge me for the actual vaccines. and by expensive, i mean all of $20. welcome to national health care.

he drew some blood and told me to come back after three days to see the result. because of my job, i didn't get back until today. another doctor was in, but he also spoke english. he took me into the back, glanced at my chart, took a breath and told me i have hepatitis b.

".....i have hepatitis b?" i asked.
"yes. you have it," he confirmed.

suddenly, my mouth went dry, my heart raced, and my entire experience in taiwan flashed before my eyes. how is that even possible? i thought. is that even possible? i've led an almost painfully celibate life... i don't even have someone to cuddle with during a movie, and you're telling me that somehow i contracted a disease that is, by and large, mostly passed on through sexual intercourse?!?! now what? i wondered. treatment? is it treatable? should i go back to america right now? can i go back to america? were those previous shots worth crap? did they malfunction and give me the disease instead of protecting me? i know that if it's unlikely to happen, it will probably happen to me, but COME ON! my luck can't possibly be that bad!

"oh, i'm sorry! i was thinking antigen... this is your antibody count. no, you're fine! your antibody levels are very high. you don't need another shot."
"oh my goodness, you scared me."
"haha! sorry! don't worry about getting it when you travel. you're very healthy."

at least i managed to laugh a little afterwards.


but son of a b. he really had me for a second there.

mommy! mommy! look! it's a waiguoren!

"their bark is worse than their bite."
or so the saying goes.

i suppose that's fortunate for many taiwanese people. actually, my taiwanese friends have told me that we foreigners are nicer than we ought to be.

after being in taiwan a year, i've learned to live by a "go with the flow" kind of lifestyle. in general, most things have completely stopped bothering me. rabid dog? almost got hit by a scooter? oh, dead cockroach on the restaurant floor? it's all part of being here.

one thing i have never quite accepted, however, is being stared at. taiwan has made me extremely aware of how white i am. even more aware than new cross, and that's saying a lot! children stare at me wide-eyed. they point... waiguoren! i want to say, 'kid i know what you're saying!' but i just keep on walking. and i wouldn't mind the kids if adults, real adults, didn't stare at me so often. sometimes, on mrts or buses, they'll switch seats when i sit down. most of the time, they'll just skip over me and sit next to another taiwanese person. and on very rare occasions, they'll come to sit down, have a glance at me, process for a good second that i'm a waiguoren, then choose to stand instead. i can almost see the inner debate... stand or sit next to her? stand or sit next to her.... errrrrrr.... stand!

in such situations, there's really a mutual discomfort going on.

for being such naturally shy people, however, i'm amazed by how often i've been approached for random things. several times, i've been offered a job. on occasion, people have asked me questions about my culture or my experience in taiwan for a school assignment. and a few times, people have simply asked me to be their friend, usually because they want to practice their english. the first and third have always seemed silly to me, because for all they know, i could be psychotic.

but the best and funniest incident happened over the weekend. i went on an outing south of taipei with the teachers at my school. we saw a famous waterfall, wrote our wishes on balloons and sent them into the sky, ate a lot of taiwanese food, and generally just got some cleaner air.

and somewhere along the line, this happened:









now the strange thing about this situation was not that complete strangers asked allison and me to take a picture with them. that's a very common thing. rather, i found it unique that they were all guys. i've gotta say that after spending a significant amount of time here, that has happened to me all of ZERO times before. most taiwanese men react to me in one of the following ways:
1. invisibility
2. apathy
3. sheer terror

look. laugh. be envious.

juno

"it's not you, it's me."
or so the saying goes.

i finally got to see juno this weekend. after months of hearing good things and no premiere date in sight, it finally came out in taipei.
most of the time, i don't go to movies unless someone suggests it to me. i'm not sure why this is. also, english films are intolerably loud here. geez, if we weren't deaf before we started watching, we certainly are now!

i've gotta say that i expected more. of what, i'm not sure. it was sweet and enjoyable and awkward like teenage romance tends to be, but maybe i just wanted a more profound experience. or message.
i really liked the soundtrack, though.

surely, dickens was referring to s4

"it was the best of times; it was the worst of times"
or so the saying goes.

most people have heard of my ongoing, and i daresay epic, war of wills with the children usas refers to as "s4." they range from grades 2-4, and every day is its own private bevy of madness. i seldom let people in, because i feel that it's a government nobody else could understand, nestled somewhere between a loving community and absolute anarchy. some days, i feel like i have my very own, fully taiwanese and completely awkward version of the partridge family, where everybody loves everybody else at the end of the day. and others, i feel like i'm waging a war.

my boss gave me the opportunity to give them up this semester, when all the classes changed. chris and i had to make a choice, and as much as they drive me crazy, i chose to keep them. there are days when i rejoice in the brilliance of my decision and days when i almost can't handle the misery anymore.

i couldn't tell you how many times i've trouble-shooted(shot?) this class with my co-workers. investigated discipline options. organized and reorganized the class. but ultimately it comes down to how i relate to them and how they relate to me. some of it was fixable and some of it was not, no matter what happens or who teaches the class. as it turns out, some kids who are trouble when they're three are still trouble when they're in third grade.

last week, i had to punish two of them for singing "down by the bay" while everyone was trying to write in their books. which isn't a big deal, except one was singing the verse and the other was singing the repeats. i can almost guarantee that they didn't plan it out. they just thought it was a good idea at the time. one started, and the other followed suit. and i would have been angrier, if it hadn't been so funny. i sent them outside for the chinese teacher to deal with them, mostly because i was afraid i'd laugh if i had to punish them myself. i told chris about it the next day, and asked him how he felt about it. is it me? sometimes, they have the capacity to feel like an absolute failure as a teacher and as a disciplinarian. and others, they lift my spirits. i find them funny, sweet, completely endearing. my boss has told me that the most important thing is that i haven't given up on all the kids who have worn the previous teachers out. really, she once told me, you're the only one who hasn't given up on them.

but he probably made me feel the best, when, after my anecdote and expression of frustration, he interjected "you know they really love you," he said. "that's why they do those things." silence. i think to myself, if they loved me, they'd keep my commandments, wouldn't they? "well, what i mean is, they don't do it just because they love to drive you crazy. they love that it's you."

you think so? really, deep down, i'm going to miss s4. i'm so strangely proud of them. proud of their absurdity. of their inability to sit still. of our inside jokes. that every time someone is singing loudly in the halls or making a commotion, i can say, "i think that's one of mine." and i'm always right about that.

here is a picture of us when we've actually pulled it together enough to be super class. and i feel that it pretty much sums us up.










be sure to survey the splendor of my required school uniform.

oh snap

i have 20 more days of work. 20! one month from today, i will be traipsing through the absolute middle of nowhere, asia. the cusp of civilization... oh, i'm so excited. i mostly want to see if the sky gets any bluer than that.

apparently, russia approved my visa. which is great. even though it took 4 weeks.

i spent today in fulong. it's always weird to see the pacific from the other side. i keep hoping that it's bluer or warmer or that maybe it smells different here, but it's the same. and maybe that's why i love it so much.

this past week was strange. we're down to only women at work. i suddenly have seniority. and i got absurdly ill on thursday. it was a fever and a cold or something, but mostly, i think it was pure, uninhibited, unadulterated exhaustion. and it knocked me flat for nearly 24 hours. i don't think i've ever slept that much.

also, chinese medicine is amazing.
but it tastes like ground chalk.
and goes down just as smoothly.

when sad, i find it often works to buy something you don't need

okay, just because i bought myself an ipod nano doesn't mean i'm not sad that chris left today. wow, double-negatives.

it's been about 6 months since my ipod died, and i finally broke down and bought myself a replacement. i figure... i could get 80gb, but i don't bloody need 80gb. come to think of it, nobody needs that much! this thing carries 1,000 songs. i could listen to it all the way from ulaanbatar to moscow and probably still have space leftover. i think i'm set.

today was a little weird. i went to the jade market to pick up my awesome stamp, engraved with my chinese name. i could only stay a short time, though, because all the green almost made me suffer a seizure. bought travel guides. slept. did my laundry. walked around because the sun was out. shopped. bought my nano.

and spent an unusual amount of time laughing.

i said yesterday that i really have nothing to complain about. which is funny, since i spend a lot of time complaining. or maybe reflecting. i don't know! but truthfully, all things have culminated in God putting me right here, and that's bigger than anything i ever imagined for myself.

but seriously, i just laughed today, for a lot of reasons. as a going away present, chris wrote me a letter, crammed with a lot of things, one of them being advice. and one piece of advice in particular about dating. encouragement, if you will. a reminder that i'm really good at selling myself short. as i normally do, i took the things he said and thought about them. sometimes i conclude that he's a jerk and proceed to tell him so, but most of the time, they're just harsh truths. i went online, where little reminders about my past dating choices popped up around me. so i thought about it. about the circumstances and what it did to me and what i became. and i just laughed, because it actually hurt as much as it did at the time. at the absurdity. not that all my choices or the fact that it hurt at the time were absurd. but a few, yes. and that, to me, today, was funny.

remind me to stop selling myself short.

that one time

"...think it'll be all right if i never leave my apartment till i'm old?"
-holly, p.s. i love you




a recent topic of interest has been pain that makes you wish that you could die. i'm not talking about physical trauma. i'm talking about disembodied pain, the kind that is so far inside you that you wish you could go tear it out, though you wouldn't know where to start.

i mean, people die for physical reasons all the time. something inside you stops working, and thus, you stop working. it may or may not hurt so much that sleep or unconsciousness or maybe even death are preferred. but for many, if you lie there or do what you're told long enough, that pain goes away.

but we explored this a little further: can you ever die of a broken heart, of actual emotional pain? most have heard the disembodied voice, the one from that indefinable part of yourself that screams that something is very, very wrong.

i spent a summer incapacitated. i went to work because i had to, ate because i had to, and planned my semester because i had to. and once in a while, i even smiled, because of the people in my life. and though i kept on moving, i can attest that there were days, weeks, even months that i woke up and didn't want to move. that i wished that i could just lie there as long as it took for whatever thing that was broken inside me to heal.




right now, i feel that way. i wish i could go to sleep for a few days or weeks, and wake up when it doesn't hurt anymore. i'm spent. i just want to call into work and ask if i can come back in a week, after not moving for the next 7 days. surely, it can't hurt that much then. i go to sleep to stop from hurting and wake up feeling like i hadn't slept at all.

can't i, please?

shit, son

I CAN'T SLEEP! WHY CAN'T I SLEEP!

it's the small things that matter

or so i've heard it said.

in general, i consider most things to be over-appreciated. appearance. money. fashion trends (not to be confused with fashion). large things (beds, cars, closets, refrigerators).

and conversely, i consider other things to be sorely under-appreciated. hot water. underwear. television on dvd. the quesadilla.


and lately, one more thing.

behold, the guava:














while it's everywhere, i mean under-appreciated like apples are in our culture. they're just... there. say you're standing amongst an array of fruit, and your choices are strawberries, watermelon, raspberries, blueberries, and apples. which one do you pick? i'll bet it's not the apples!
guava is similar here. mango season comes, and BAM... guava? what's guava? it also will not get picked over dragon fruit, star fruit, kiwi, or pineapple.



i really couldn't tell you why guava wasn't a regular part of my diet back home. wait, yes i can. because you don't find it at home. you eat things like watermelon, strawberries, apples, grapes, and bananas. not guava.

it's a simple fruit. it contains no potency, no zing. but i have to say it's one of the most consistent aspects of my experience in taiwan. even when mango failed me on both the fresh and ice sand level, i don't remember there being a time when i couldn't get guava. and every time i eat it, the better it tastes.

so easily forgettable. so underwhelming in taste and appearance. but time after time, when my body starts screaming for something that isn't processed or greasy or rice, there it is at 7-11 or in the school kitchen, sitting there, staring at me, reminding me of how much better i'll feel when i have some.

mix it with a little prune powder and a half dozen cherry tomatoes, and you have something i'll definitely miss when i go home.

a good thing

china called today.
(well, actually, they informed my visa agent who informed me)

and they're letting me in the country this summer, despite all the olympic insanity going on. (beijing was, at best, a questionable idea, you guys)

let's hope those russians are as nice.

what's that? oh yes, 20 lbs just lifted off my chest.

one day me speak pretty.

i promise, every time i sit down to write something, i hope to post something good. i actually have maybe a dozen entries, but none of them are finished, and they're about much more profound and/or entertaining topics than i've been posting lately. musings. quandaries. observations. things revolving around some of the following:
-abortions in taiwan... did you know that this is common and acceptable? i didn't until recently. even though it's legal back home, it's still not okay. if you get one, be prepared to vehemently defend your reasons to anyone who finds out. here, it's simply an inconvenience to having unprotected sex. wait, unprotected sex? yes, well, the sexual tension of youth culture here would require a few dozen blogs to begin with, so i'll skip it. but there's a machismo in asian culture that states that wearing a condom is emasculating. yet man-purses, sequins, and copious amount of hair product somehow are not. also, they apparently don't learn anything in sex education, because nobody likes to talk about it. i didn't say it, chris' taiwanese friend did. people are too conservative to talk about sex, but not too conservative to have it. hmmmm... christian culture kind of has the same problem, i'm discovering. but that's another post.
-the convenience store phenomenon and how it just might make the world a safer place. really!
-my new-found appreciation for socialized health care, followed by a commentary on how overpriced and inconvenient medicine is back home. i'd argue that we're paying for better health care, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for better medicine, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for more qualified doctors, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for a longer life expectancy and a healthier population, but we're not. i'd argue that we're paying for more personal relationships with our doctors... for convenience... for protection... for consistency... for safety and legitimacy... but we're not. WHAT ARE WE PAYING FOR!
-taiwanese fashion. how it can be gloriously rich and beautiful, or maybe its ability to burn your eyes out of their sockets.
-my infatuation with jay chou and chinese films.
-the hierarchy of asian culture. japan. korea. china. taiwan. hong kong. the philippines. indonesia. cambodia. thailand. vietnam. burma. india. no, they're not the same, and you'd be surprised. i learned this from taiwanese friends and other ex-pats, and slowly, it's begun to make a lot of sense.
-the glory of commercials on taipei buses.

all half-finished or only just begun. why? because my ability to write and speak has diminished severely. i can't write cohesive thoughts anymore, people. vocabulary? all my sentences and words sound the same. my sentences don't make any sense anymore, because i don't speak english. i speak esl teacher. it's a terrible half-breed of a language, both stealth and completely untraceable as it sneaks upon you. it begins with a sentence, and before you know it, you're asking questions like "what is your mommy's hair look like?" you're just too lazy to correct yourself and say "does" instead.

lately, i've contemplated bringing some of these esl-isms back with me and seeing if people notice. sometimes, i think it would be hilarious. people refer to each other as "the" something. "the" teacher joy. "the" brian. i wonder how long i'd have to say it before people stopped and asked me what was wrong with me. the other fun ones include: how to do? how to say? don't have! (instead of didn't) and speaking with your hands. a lot. also, counting things instead of saying "a", "the." make a line becomes make one line. bring me a pencil is now bring me one pencil. i haven't started calling things "my one" anymore, because i hate that more than anything, though i have started making the same sounds people make when they're unhappy. just wait till it comes out of me... you might find it to be the most terrible thing. ever.

we'll see if i ever rediscover myself enough to finish those blogs.

no time! no time!

for months, i've been suffering from severe insomnia. for a while, i thought it was stress or too much caffeine or anticipation. but the days and weeks have come and gone, and nothing's changed.

sometimes, while i lay alone in the dark, i put my hand on my chest, and i can feel my heart racing erratically. "calm down," i tell myself. there's nothing to worry about. yet it beats so wildly that i'm certain i'll die. i try and try to close my eyes, but sleep won't come. i try to write down my thoughts. what's wrong? did i forget something? will i get my life together enough these next few weeks? what if rachel and i don't make it into the program? is it him?

the anxiety weighs on me, even in my dreams. i toss and turn, wishing i could forget about my day, or my exhaustion, or the fact that i don't feel like i'm ready for this summer. wishing that, so long as my eyes are closed and i am, at least physically, sleeping, the anxiety will lift and i will feel free, unburdened, and excited.

my room is a disaster right now, full of half-done things. my half-done visa process. half-packed suitcases. books strewn about, because i've only half-decided to give them to angie and half-resolved myself to keeping them. half-answers on moving out, id cards, and international sims. the fact that this cursed mother's day event is only half-done, and chris' half-completed present occupying my desk and the end of my bed.

i calculated today. i teach 5 classes every morning, and 1 class every afternoon. except, last semester i was teaching 3, so let's average it to 2. i also teach 1 class every night, but that doesn't include when i was carrying double class loads after chad left. according to my calculations, i teach 8 classes a day, 40 classes a week, 160 classes a month, and it seems up to this point, over 1,600 classes this past year. i'd never done the math until now. and each day, like clockwork, i feel pressured to invent some new idea for them, to make learning fun and entertaining, so that they forget that their life of academic misery is only beginning.

and each day, the same things wear on me a little more. i'm very, plainly, completely dry. i've heard the expression "i've got nothing left to give" and i always thought it was an excuse. it's not. sometimes, while standing during the morning's song, i'm certain that i'll pass out right there on the spot, because i'm just drained.

but it's only 6 more weeks.

我的中華的朋友你好!

today, after work, i was tying up some loose ends on my visas and watching the office, and this clip came up:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AC1oj_SWJU

now, i'll be the first to admit that my chinese isn't great, but i've really come to appreciate this. i had to listen a few times to fully figure out what he was saying, but it's wo de zhonghua de pengyou, ni hao! which means, my chinese friends, hello!

okay, nobody else will think it's funny except chris, but i was dying.

oh no!

i am officially booked for this summer... trains, buses, hostels, flights. everything except those effing visas. but otherwise all confirmed. i get back to the states on july 10. oh man.

i was reflecting for a moment on the utter pinnacle of gruel i will be consuming in my summer months. the taiwanese say that chinese food is dodgy. they also said the same about thai food, and i found thai food, even that of the dodgiest sort, to be immensely more appetizing than the so-called food i often eat in taiwan.

but even so, i might just have to become a vegetarian in china, as one can't be too careful when we're talking billions of socially and politically repressed people. maybe unlike taiwan, they actually find a use for all those stray dogs.

kidding!

but seriously, it will be onto mongolia. now i've had damn good mongolian barbecue, but i've seen pictures of ulaanbatar, and we are talking the fringe of civilization as we know it. i borders (literally and metaphorically) on all those -stan countries i have no desire to visit. kazakhstan. uzbekistan. turkmenistan. like polygon-shaped states, i avoid -stans. one can only imagine what they're going to dream up while i'm camping in the middle of nowhere and living, it seems, just like abraham. which is totally awesome, i might add. i've heard rumors of raw meat, which, even in my hungriest of states, i'm not sure i can stomach.

russia is another story. i know people who've been to russia. i've heard stories about russia. i've had an inexplicable desire to visit russia as long as i can remember. i had twelve year-old fantasies about the glory of petersburg while reading anna karenina. don't judge me for thinking it would be sweet to be a member of the russian aristocracy. unless i was a woman. especially an adulteress. or a romanov. or living anywhere -bouts that whole revolution.
but still!

all that aside, among the stories, i've heard about how indescribably horrible the cooking is. how you wonder if it's really cat they're feeding to you. in which case, i won't live on vodka, but 7-11 or its kin might continue to rescue me.


then, as i make my way back into western culture, there's london. with countries with such a reputation for excellence in cooking, i've wondered how london's food continues to be so... so... disastrous. is disastrous the right word? it's like they are incapable of listening to the french. or the spanish. or the italians. hell, even the swiss, for that matter.

all this further pumps me up for mexican food and in-n-out. perhaps all that cheap hippie kickboxing will count for nothing in the end.