oooooh.....aaawwww

Day IV : The Big Night

New Year's in Asia- so nice they do it twice! My first round of New Years was a reasonably good time at a Rave back in Korea, but it had nothing on Chinese New Year in China!!!

I woke up to what I thought was rain on the hotel window. Pat-pat-patter-pat. But then I noticed, still hazy in a state of semi-conscious waking, that the rain was coming at very short, irregular intervals. I got up to go have a look and realized it wasn't precipitation at all! It was pyrotechny!!!

All day long the static crackling of fireworks could be heard from every direction. Not a minute went by that there wasn't some small discharge being set off. That afternoon, as we went walking around the city, the smell of gunpowder and sulfur inscened the air. Bright red paper litter, remnants of ignited cracker chains, covered the streets and swirled around in the wind like fall leaves. Men in business suites and boys in knee-hole jeans alike were seen quickly retreating from freshly lit explosives. Scurrying away, chin down, shoulders up, fingers in their ears, eyes tightly squinched, and a wincing grin on their face. It amused me that they would set off a firecracker, only to try to completely block it out.

We were anxious to get in the game, so we visited out local fireworks stand, a folding table laden with a virtual feast of munitions. We loaded up with tanks, roman candles, M80s, whizzing swizzle sticks, fountains, cracker chains and one 3 1/2 foot Giant Rocket that promised 88 missiles. Giddy with the inevitable mischief that was to be celebrated that night, we ran back to our hotel with our arsenal. Sean carried the rocket like a firstborn child, cradling it in his arms with that look of love and pride, and thirst for destruction. As we strided across the marble foyer of the Grand Regency he blithely commented "I can't believe I'm walking into a 5-Star hotel with this thing" Evidently neither could the security guards, who at that very moment were racing across the lobby to intercept our ammunition. "No,no,no,no,no,no,no. Can't have here- outside!" We tried convincing them to allow us to store them behind the desk but I guess their armory was indisposed, so we had to think.

We decided to risk being put on the "axis of evil" and just hide our weapons of minor destruction. We agreed the best place would be back at our local Lennon Bar. We cased the scene and Hans Blix was nowhere to be found so we stashed as much as we could fit behind one of the large concrete statues of the Asian Dog-Guardian that stood on either side of the front door. Then high-fives were exchanged for another successful mission completed, and we ran back to the hotel to start off the evening.

From our windows on the 10th floor we could look out over the entire city and watch the madness escalate. It was a constant pulsing of lights and colors. Full blown giant fireworks burst all around, in between downtown skyscrapers and apartment complexes. Sparkling rockets arched over the streets and white shimmering fountains erupted on every corner. Whizzing and whistling, squealing and buzzing, cracking and popping were so pervasive it eventually all dulled into white noise. It was so different from the 4th of July, where a show is concentrated in one specific location and scheduled for perhaps an hour at dusk. There was no containing this display. It was a city-wide bombardment, how I would imagine a war-zone to be. Lights and flashes in all directions, noise and clatter from every which way. You couldn't help but be perceptually over stimulated.

We returned to our hidden stockpile, and after sharing a New Year's drink with Hao, allowed him to start the evening and do the honors of setting off the Giant 88 Rocket. Then we unloaded the rest of our fusillade in the street in front of the bar. The frosty air was thick with smoke and smelled if burnt paper. My stinging fingers struggled with the lighter, flicking it until my thumb was raw. The hissing glow of fuses set off adrenaline shivers in my hands and legs. The bright sparks left afterglow spots on my eyes. My nose running, my ears burning, my eyes watering, it was pure Joy. Not just excitement and happiness, but Joy, the kind 4 year olds get from blowing bubbles. Joy, where you are simply elated from tip to toe, with no practical or conscious reason. Watching my friends as we danced and leapt around like kids at Christmas, even though it hurt my cheeks and cracked my lips, I could help but grin, .

Who knew that celebrating another year going by could actually make you feel 20 years younger.

Day III (II): Shops, Sushi, & Sgt. Pepper's

Monday continued with trip to the shopping district of Qingdao. Wandering through the old city was, to quote both my Grandmother and Timothy Leary, "A trip". As I mentioned before, the city was once occupied by the Germans, who left not only their "mystic yeatst" but also alot of anomolous Bravarian architecture scattered throughout the city. The juxtapostion of pagoda rooves and European chalets bordered on un-nerving, but in a funky "I don't know what continent I'm on" kind of way. But anyway, the shopping was good. Among the more notable of the group's purchases were red underwear (for luck in the New Year) cheeeeeap CD's, a $2 copy of "Yellow Submarine" with Chinese all over the album cover (can't find that at Best Buy) which I purchased to commemorate a performance given in a karaoke club the night before. Also some classic red New Years Lanterns, and a giant Cookie Monster who instantly became the trip mascot. Hmmm, Red lanters, Yellow Submarines, and Blue Muppets, all the primary colors covered. Shopping deemed successful. We advanced to the next mission: food!



Sushi on a Belt!

We had a fun lunch at a conveyor belt sushi restaurant where small plates of sushi slowly floated by our booth and we nabbed all the tasty looking ones until our stack of plates towered above our heads. I'd done this once before in Tokyo and enjoyed it just as much, if not more, this time around. It's like the exact opposite of a drive through. You remain stationary as your food parades past you in a calvacade of courses. I'm surprised American hasn't picked up on this yet. What would be better suited to our penchant for inactive eating? Next to an I.V. drip, conveyor belt service is the best way to go for inert nourishment! If only you could Supersize Sushi...

Having exhausted our feet and cash flows for the day we returned to the Hotel to enjoy some of the amenities, namely the pool and sauna. Then, while the others opted for KFC, I decided to indulge 5-Star style. I had a hot bath, put on my big Regency robe and slippers, ordered room service, and turned on Oprah. I emerged fully refreshed and ready for a night out. So went the evening.

I was told the plan was to go to "The Lennon Bar" and upon hearing the name the first time, I wasn't completely sure it wasn't perhaps "The Lenin Bar", hey it's Communist China after all. But I was relieved to find it was a bar commemorating the musician, not the Marxist, and we ended up having a great time. We had the place almost completely to ourselves, played pool, fooseball, connect-four, and had popcorn catching competitions until the weeeeeeee hours of the morning. At one point Eddie and Edgar even played a sweet set of guitar and drum music on the live stage. And to top it all off I ordered myself a "Yellow Submarine". I love trips with trends!

George enjoys the Lennon Bar too!

Day III: Superbowl Monday Morning

Superbowl Crew

While all of my friends and family in America were settling in for a night of Superbowl Sunday I was on the other side of the world, rising for a morning of Superbowl Monday. Maybe you had chips and dip, guacomole, or even buffalo wings. Imagine, instead, watching football while digesting a fresh omelette and a bowl of hot cereal. It's even better than you can envision. For some reason which I cannot describe, football and breakfast complement eachother most favorably. My only other experience with this unusual pairing was for my 22nd birthday at Notre Dame, where I participated in the infamous 7am Kegs and Eggs pre-game ritual. Top it off with a Bloody Mary and you have the makings for the perfect day of pigskin. I was excited to once again enjoy some early morning tackling action so my Superbowl buddy, Sean, and I arrived at the Lobby Bar promptly at 9am and asked a confused and bewildered lounge hostess to be seated in the otherwise vacant bar. What's this, some Foreigners what to drink at 9am?! What's even better is that I think she was the same woman that asked Sean and I to leave the night before, as the bar was closing at 1am, and no less than 8 hours later we were back for more. The game was good, and I'm sure you all saw it so there is no point in recounting it. We enjoyed the Paul McCartney Halftime show, agreeing it was the best in recent memory, purely for the fact that it wasn't another Teeny-bopper Pop-star, nor did it rely primarily leather pants and pyrotechnics. We were soon joined by Marcin and the three of us ordered Coronas, deciding that drinking at 10am would not be as strange as watching the Superbowl without a beer. Mmmmm Beer and Omelette...and football. Such an underappreciated combination. It even made up for the commentary being entirely in Chinese, except the occasional "WOW!" I highly recommend it. I challenge any of you to picture a better alternative to any other Monday morning than watching Mandarine-narrated American Championship Football in a hotel bar at mid-morning in Qingdao China.

Brew Crew

Entering the Temple

I'm always cavtolvs

Heed the warning signs when the road is lubricors

Day II: Temples and Breweries

Our first morning in the hotel we all met for our complimentary Buffet Breakfast. It was fantastic, a literal schmorgasboard (set on a buffet made of actual smorgas! Really!) Then we met Hao who had arranged for a 9 passenger van and a driver to take us to Laoshan Mountain. A scenic drive along the ocean reminded me of driving around Acadia Maine, boulder cliffs rising right out of the sea. We wound around the coast and came to a trail head where we began our ascent. First stopping at the dam with signs warning us to "be carvtolvs". Then to a waterfall and bamboo forest where the boys displayed their sweet bow-staff skills for the climactic fight scene of our kungfu movie. Next, on to an ancient Taoist temple with a thousand year old gingko tree and a dog who probably wasn't a thousand years old, but was still cute...and probably tasty. (ref to Day I: Chow Chow) Having conquered a mountain, and visited a holy temple, the only logical thing to do next was pay homage to the Spirit of the City. And I don't mean "spirit" in any pretentious, esoteric, religious, ethereal way. No, I mean lager, ale, beeeeeeer. The Tsingtao Brewery was the next stop on our itinerary. The best part (besides it being an entire building dedicated to making beer) was that we got an exclusive tour because Hao's mom had the connections to make it happen. Wow, the power to access a brewery; Bacchus would be pleased. With a single cell phone call she opened the doors of Tsingtao Headquarters. It was like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory...only replace chocolate with Beer, and oompa-loompas with Chinese factory personnel, and nobody got turned into a blueberry, but there was "mystic yeast". No, I'm not being facetious; I have pictures to prove it....Check It!

Mystic Yeast!

Yep, that's turtle...mmmm

Scrumptious Scorpions

Day I: Chow Chow

"Eddie the Scorpion Tamer"
We arrived in China and were picked up by our Hotel (ahem.. the 5-Star Grand Regency... schweeeeet) Getting to our rooms I did what any 5-star hotel guest would do. I put on the big cushy bathrobe and slippers, turned on HBO, and jumped from bed to bed with giggly girlish glee. Then it was time for lunch. We met a friend of Beth's, Hao who had been studying in New Zealand for the last few years. He and his mother who, serendipitously enough, happened to be a travel agent, took us to a restaurant that had at least 150 dishes on display for us to choose from. We wandered around gazing upon plates of braised tofu to glazed turtle (shell and all), octopus legs and shark fin, even baby scorpions for a crunchy light snack. We pointed warily to a couple different dishes, ranging on a gradual scale of what would push the fortitude of our palates. Then we went upstairs and were seated at a round table with large lazy-susan in the center. Like eating off a merry-go-round, everyone gets a spin! Weee! First Course: Tsingtao Beer! Our first taste of the ale that made Qingdao famous and its German occupiers rich. They loaded up the table with steaming posts of seafood soup, plates of stirfried mushrooms and sauteed veggies, steamed dim sum buns, crispy fried green tea leaves, and as a finale, dog stew. Normally I'm a valiant culinary adventurer, but this little vegetarian abstained from feasting on Fido, and I feel no worse for having missed the canine course, although I'm told it was Great(...Dane). *I apologize for the pun, the most base form of humor, but please allow one more.* Just because it's a Chow breed doesn't mean...well you get it.

Qingdoa View from Hotel

On our Way!

Eunah, Sean and I picked up at the airport by our hotel

Mission China

Mission Accomplished...thanks to the Captain

It's 04:53, still dark outside, and my internal clock wakes me up a few seconds before my digital clock does more forcefully. Sharply called to full consciousness, sitting bolt upright, I focus on my one clear mission for the day: I must get to China. Had I known the trials and tribulations this mission was going to entail I would have packed some antacid, or maybe some valium...screw Customs, I should have packed some contraband horse tranquilizers to help me cope with insanity we confronted. Given the situation, I'm sure any doctor with an ounce of compassion would have considered any and all narcotics to be a legitimate medicinal sedative. It began when we caught the shuttle bus to the airport. At 6:00am it was already too full to get all 8 of us on so 2 brave souls, Beth and Edgar, volunteered to stay behind and catch the next 606 in 10 minutes. We parted and I tried to sleep for the hour drive to Incheon International. 6 of us arrived together and found the check-in desk. Then I went outside to meet Edgar and Beth on the next 606. But they weren't on it...or the next one...or the next one. Anxiety rising and stomach churning we tried calling Beth's cell, to no avail. Eddie and James contributed by purchasing smoothies at Smoothie King and I wrung my hands nervously and checked my watch like a concussion patient while compulsively shifting my weight from one foot to the other, in hopes that it would somehow help the situation. In the end it must have worked because we spotted Beth and Edgar about 30 minutes later, arriving from a different bus. Obstacle #1 Conquered. Smooth sailing from here would have been nice, but too easy. At check-in my and the other American passport, belonging to James, were pulled out and we were told we had to go to immigration for re-entry visas. We insisted that we had multiple entry visas, but were waved on anyway. Running to the small immigration office in the airport we found about 50 disgruntled travelers crowded around a large counter staffed by two Korean attendants whose job, it appeared, was to calmly ignore the maddening crowds. From the looks of things, they were quite good at this. 45 minutes to take off and we were looking at at least an hour and a half of crowd battling. Not gonna happen. We then were told to go to the immigration office past the security check. So we did just that, and jumped a line of about 75 people by pushing through and looking like we knew what we were doing. It's amazing what you can get away with if you just appear to have permission. Nobody questioned or stopped us as our band of 8 snaked our way between through queue, pushing past those obedient suckers and their retractable blue ropes. 20 minutes to take off. We got to the inner-immigration office which was just 2 guys at a desk, much more accessible and Again, we try telling them that we have multiple entry visas. They nod and make dismissing waving guestures. We even had our Korean friend Eunah explain it but they just handed us the paperwork. So we immediately start filling out forms with all the information I have memorized by now: passport number, work address, blood type, shoe size, elementary school locker code... We are told to wait for processing about 10 minutes...after 9 and a half minutes a man comes rushing out and points to my visa saying, " You have all ready- multiple entry. Here you don't need re-entry visa." How do you say "I TOLD YOU THAT 20 F#*%ING MINUTES AGO" in Korean? I think that's the next phrase I will learn in my language exchange. James, Eunah, and I are passed through the passport check and we have a moment of communal celebration as the last one of our 8 gets waved through immigration. T-minus 5 minutes till take off and we run "Home Alone II" style through the airport to our gate. Settling into my seat, my seatbelt fastened tight and low around my waist, I can finally unfurl my brow and laugh at the ridicularity of the morning's series of unfortunate events. Next stop China. Mission Accomplished.

Ground Hog Day!

To all my fellow North Americans (yes, yes Canadians that includes you too, now settle down) I wish to extend my fullest and most joyful HAPPY GROUND HOG DAY to you!

Ground Hod Day is an esteemed tradition of the Northwestern Hemisphere, when we boldly disregard all advances made in meteorology in the past couple centuries (believe me it's not that much anyway) and turn back to our roots. This means relying upon the animals and their innate supernatural forecasting capabilities to predict how much longer its gonna stay so frickin' freezing.

Curiously enough, this is yet another holiday that they just don't "get" over here in Korea. Just like Christmas or May Day or Fourth of July, for some reason the Koreans have failed to truly recognize the solemnity and significance of this occasion. They have yet to embrace this noble day of peace and reconciliation between man and rodent, when we can set aside our differences of the past, and strive to work together for the common good. And by "common good" I'm refering to the benefit of people only because, face it, save Punxsutaney Phil the little furry critters don't get much out of the deal.

We, however, have gained the secret instinctual knowledge posessed by the ground hogs who by some fluke of evolution were endowed with the power, on one particular day of the year, to predict the change of seasons based on a nervous ground-dwellers reaction to his shadow. I suspect it is in some way connected to Plato's "Allegory of the Cave" but last time I checked, ground hogs couldn't read (and may I add God save us if they ever learn). They do however enjoy Bill Murray movies.

So what was I saying?...Ah yes! Why Koreans have yet to come and join in our annual rodent ritual I cannot say. But for all others who do observe this grand and glorious day, Happy Ground Hog Day!!