This day returning from China to the U.S. is approximately a 36 hour day. My flight lands about the same time as it takes off and I essentially don’t move in time, but move in space as I find my final destination in Chicago.

I’ll be traveling by train to Beijing and then subway to the Airport and then Plane to Chicago and then another plane to Little Rock where I’ll get in a car and drive back to Conway. I’ll be glad when this string of traveling is done.

Thanks for traveling with me.

-NL

This song has been stuck in my head for the past month or so, and I’ve noticed
an almost laughable amount of time wondering why Simon & Garfunkel’s music just tend to find their way into my head. Recently the song, America.

I for the first half of the month I was butchering the lyrics in my head. The
line “I’ve got some real-estate here in my bag” I kept singing, in my head,
“I’ve got some dinosaurs here in my bag.” I knew it was wrong, but I like the idea of a dinosaur in a bag.

Now beyond the lyrics to the song, the idea of coming back to America has just
been on the tip of my mind for the past month. Why didn’t Neil Diamond’s Coming

to America didn’t come baffles me, but Simon and Garfunkel it is.

America.

I’m sure to have reverse culture shock when I return I can almost feel it, but
hopefully it’s not too severe. I might go through distaste for culture people
and other things. It’s often something that happens to those who travel abroad for extended periods of time. It’s happened every time I’ve come back.

I find that the biggest thing is that you can tell stories, show pictures and give souvenirs, but you can never really have the people around you understand
the experiences you’ve been through and what it was actually like. And usually you want them to be able to so badly that it feels like you’re a foreigner in your own country.

In my most honest moments, I can say this is the hardest thing for me. I can look at the people that I love the most and truly not explain any of my experiences and give them any justice, which leaves me speechless and searching for something to tell them.

I hope someday they’ll understand, and I hope someday I will have the ability to

share the intricacies of my experiences, and what I see, hear, taste, think and
feel while I’m traversing the foreign landscape and what latter revelations come

from such an impactful experience.

I hope I’ve given you something, what little I have to give.

I hope you’ve learned something, from the immense amount I’ve learned.

I hope you’ve enjoyed it, even a fraction of what I have.

I hope that your hope remains, even if mine falters.

I hope to tell you all about this soon.

-NL

I tend to be in a constant state of goodbyes recently. I’m not sure exactly what that’s about. It’s always good bye I”ll see you later, but recently it seems it’s goodbye and I may never see you again. Have a good life seems like such a hard statement to come by, so we soften the blow of “bye”, with something good.

So because I’ve been in the perpetual state of “goodbyes”, you might think that I’ve gotten pretty good at them. I think I’ve gotten good at saying the word, but not necessarily emoting the correct feeling that I want in such a single use word. Elton John lied, sorry isn’t the hardest word. So how can I say goodbye, but mean something more like this.

Good- to know you all it’s been a blast. I’m sad to leave, sadder than I think I realize now, but you’ve been more than a great group of people to share my summer with, and I’m glad for the things that you’ve shared with me. So it’s hard to say, and I know we are all thinking that this is probably the last time I’ll see most of you, but lets remember the times that were good, for those are the time that I want to remember the most. Let your memory of me linger by and -bye.

Maybe that’s enough maybe that isn’t, but this Monday is my last night in Qingdao, and no doubt I’m enjoying a last dinner and hurray with some of the people that have made this summer so great. I’m sure I’ll have stories upon stories about those last night, but you’ll need to hear those stories face to face.

So as I say goodbye to this lot, I’ll be soon saying hello to a place that seems to be calling my name harder than it ever did before. However, for now I’ll focus on those byes, and make them good.

再见青岛。(Goodbye Qingdao.)

再见中国。(Goodbye China.)

我会回来。

-NL

So after a Saturday of dealing with people trying to get me to buy something from them, I decided to make my last weekend day in China a little more relaxing and enjoyable. So, that means going to the beach. Yesterday it rained so today seemed like a great day to the beach.

Now I’ve been to the beach before, but Qingdao is also right on the coast, so it’s part of what you do when you are here. So I went to the beach after a morning of reading and a little writing. (You didn’t think this was the only place I was writing did you? Silly blog reader.)

I ventured out to walk in the sand, and enjoy the waves. First problem. I forgot how this is the beginning of the busy season in Qingdao so along with me having the great idea to go to the beach; half the city did as well. So not really a great place to relax, but it wasn’t too bad as I was able to sit around and enjoy the sun shining through the cloud cover.

I walked the beach which shortly turned into rocks. So I took time to photograph these cool rocks that are usually covered up during high tide. Overall the trip was good just not as relaxing as once hoped. So, I returned back to my room where my roommate was finally awake. After sitting around and watching Korean television with him for a little bit, which I can’t understand a bit of it.

So after laying around I decided to make my way to the other side of town to May 4th Square cause it’s pretty at night. So, not an eventful day, but one that was worthwhile. I can’t complain too much. China had been good to me. Qingdao too, it’s just a bittersweet end to a place that I feel like I was just beginning to get to know.

So after reading this I realize this is one of the most boring posts I’ve ever made. I’m thinking right now that I shouldn’t post it, but hey I’ve already typed this far. This gives you an idea of a normal everyday, weekend day for me while I was here, not that exciting, but just interesting enough to tell a small story.

Sometimes that’s all I ask for.

~

Here’s a few pictures from the day at the beach and down at May 4th Square. Spent most of the day relaxing so not a lot to show for it. Just a few things for you to enjoy.

Ps. the next few posts will be remotely posted because of how busy I am and how much traveling I have ahead of me, but they’re still good, so enjoy them (well I think they’re good).
-NL

So as time closes on me here in Qingdao I’m trying to tie up loose ends and do the things I planned on doing, but never had the time to. So for those of you that know me, that means buying gifts, taking pictures, packing and eating bugs.

Yes the last one is real.

So I’ve had a great time here, but I’ve totally forgot to do a few things while I’ve been here. I guess I just thought sleep or working on my online history class were more important. Boy I was wrong. I need a few more pictures than what I have, and I’ve totally forgot to buy a few things for family members and such.

Anyways, this last minute stuff is making me feel way too busy, but it’s OK it just makes me realize how many people I have back in the U.S. who care about me, and how many people I want to share this part of my life to through something as small as a little trinket from China.

So I’ve got a few things left to do like visit the beach one last time and buy a few Chinese Red Bull, but it’s going to be a fun next couple of days before I leave with final dinner’s and taking photos with people that I have known for only a short amount of time.

Another “travel channel”-esk thing I have left is to eat some odd, but delicious street food. Those of you that feel the same way I do understand me. So here’s a few links to some videos of me consuming a few more creatures. (locusts, grasshoppers, scorpions again) I couldn’t get myself to eat the grub-worms, maybe another trip.

Part 1: http://www.flickr.com/photos/23292852@N07/4801930166/
Part 2: http://www.flickr.com/photos/23292852@N07/4801349065/
Part 3: http://www.flickr.com/photos/23292852@N07/4802009492/

I didn’t put the video of me eating sea urchin because I’m pretty sure I ate some rocks or something (it also was not my favorite thing I’ve ever eaten). I might try those one more time, but not from a street vendor. Check out some of my other photos of Xi’an and such on Flickr if you’re feeling fancy and bored on this lovely Saturday.

Enjoy here a few photos from the day and I’ll be talking to you soon as I finish out my time here in Qingdao.

-NL

I hear people speaking all around me a different language on a daily basis. Seldom do I hear English. If I do hear English it is usually broken English. Even the most liberal of English teacher would cringe to hear some of the English I’ve heard.

(However I have run into to some students who speak English wonderfully. One is named Betty. She’s going places.)

This has been a tough experience being in a place where my first language is everyone’s second or third language at most. Often it is non-existent from their vocabulary. I’ve had to adjust what I say, whether it be in Chinese or whether it is in English. If it’s in Chinese I have to hope that not only can they understand me, but I can understand them. Communication is a two way game. If I speak English I must make sure I speak in a way a low level English speaker can understand, which often has me speaking in a Chinese form of English. Sometimes I’m speaking both to the same person.

However I’m noticing that I often forget words or forget how to speak clearly.

If I’ve grammatically been wrong throughout my posts this summer part of the reason is not proofreading enough and also losing my grasp of the English language. You don’t realize that if you don’t use something how you can lose it. It is like riding a bike, but it seems like every day is learning how to ride a bike again.

Sometimes I search for a word and have to sit in front of my computer typing the definition to try and find the word that I’m thinking of by its definition. It’s getting bad. I’ll be glad to be able to speak English again instead of my broken English I’ve slowly acquired over the past summer.

It’s even worse when you’re trying to write a research paper for your online class. I’m sure my professor just thinks I’m either crazy or not trying.

Hopefully the first.

-NL

Ps. The “Losting” in Losting Language is a joke. It’s not that bad, but I did type it that way at first on accident.

It’s a new mantra and it’s a good one. I bought my ticket back to Qingdao the day I got to Xi’an which was obviously not enough time because all that was available is what is called a hard seat. It’s the lowest thing you can get other than a standing only ticket to wherever.

Now the seat isn’t necessarily hard, but it isn’t soft either.

The best way I know how to explain it is that it is like the seats on an old Yellow School Bus in the U.S. the type of seats that I would take to football games and complain if the ride was over 2 hours. This train ride is a short 23 hour train ride back.

Now I’m not complaining because this train ride was one of the most interesting things that has happened on the trip. I entered the train and everyone knew that I was a foreigner. I was the only one on the train that was, and I was by myself, which for most people was seen as odd.

Technically I wasn’t alone, for I had met a Chinese girl in the Hostel who was also going to Qingdao and so we decided to travel together. She acted as my translator of sorts for most of the ride. It was quite an experience. At first everyone just awkwardly stared at me, like who is this guy, and why is he in the cheap seats?

Then we happened on either a comedian, teacher or just somebody’s crazy uncle that took pleasure in talking to me for almost 4 hours. He would ask me questions about what was I doing here, and where I was going. Then he proceeded to tell me stories about how 94 year old men getting beat by their dad and other crazy things. I knew they were jokes because everyone around us was laughing.

The entire train car had seemed to turn on this simple point in the train car and watch the back and forth between me and this gentleman. We had become the entertainment for this group of people. He then proceeded to tell me about the 24 types of people. I didn’t really understand much, but by the reactions by everyone else, I imagine they were fairly funny. They seemed to have a certain bit of poetry to it.

It almost seemed as if we had moved back to the days of old when a story teller would share history and lore through spoken word. The poetry of his humor rang through the car and my new found Chinese friend helped translate a small portion of this ancient lore.

It was quite an experience. Other than trying to sleep on the train and feeling like I need a Chiropractor after the ride it was an experience to say the least. I wasn’t built for hard seat travel in Chinese trains.

-NL

Ps. I would also like to make a plea to the Chinese government to redesign the Xi’an Train Station. It was the first time I actually felt like livestock in gates going to sale.

My final full day in Xi’an started slowly as I didn’t roll out of my bed until 11 am and leave the room till about noon. I guess I was more tired than I thought.

I made a plan to go see the two famous goose pagodas in Xi’an the small one and the big one. I knew some of the history behind one of them, but overall I was just on a “wild goose” chase to see the Wild Goose Pagodas. (I think I’m just beating my dad to the comment section with the Wild Goose chase joke. Pre-emptive jokes are hard to beat)

I was impressed with both of them, but particularly impressed with the mini museum next to the Small Goose Pagoda. The big goose pagoda was quite interesting well. If you’ve heard of Journey to the West a famous Chinese folk tale this pagoda has quite significance to that story. However the highlight of my day was riding a bike around the city wall.

Many Chinese city walls are not intact if even noticeable at all, However they have refurbished and rebuilt an entire portion of the wall in Xi’an. It encircles some of the more Historic parts of the central part of Xi’an. I entered at the South Gate and rented a bike for 20 RMB to ride around the wall.

I started off and it was another hot day in Xi’an. My plan had been to ride the city wall till about nightfall, watch the sunset and take photos along the wall.

I rode around each turn with each bump and hole in the city wall walkway rumbling beneath me as I rode across with the city below me. The bike I was given was not quite the best bike I’ve ever ridden on, in fact it might have been one of the worse, but for 20 RMB I cannot complain too much.

So turning round the east side I felt the sun as it shined in my face and the breeze followed me and kept me cool high above the streets below. I made each subsequent return stopping periodically for a photo and drink of water. I rumbled over to the West gate where the sun had begun to sink low and sky grew darker in the east.

I pulled out my camera to begin to take some photos, but then I stopped.

This trip had been full of finding “that photo” or telling “that story” but I hadn’t just stopped and wondered at the beauty of something. So I did. I put my camera away and put my fingers together as to frame the photo and I flashed in my memory a mental photograph of the sunset.

That moment seemingly simple and perfect left me watching the sunset slowly dip into the west as the breeze blew the beads of sweat on my brow away.

I rode my bike to the end of my journey with the last bits of the sun disappearing behind my back. I turned back as I was looking back at an old memory or an old friend. My western sunset and I were in that moment seeing each other eye to eye and face to face. I’ll always remember it.

A photograph stored away for another day.

~

Photos below are of the small goose pagoda and big goose goose pagoda before and some on the wall before I decided to put away my camera. I know it’s ironic to have photos on a post named mental photography, but I figured you’d want a little photographic evidence.

-NL

It’s not a good joke, but he always laughs. Sometimes I realize how much I’m like him when I laugh at my own jokes. I’m also the 23 year old guy who tells Dad jokes.

But the joke says that people think you’re (me) older until you open your mouth. I just laugh, it started early on when I was that age between growing up, but still sounding like a kid. Sometimes I’m not sure if I ever left that stage.

The makes sense because I played “uncle” to a group of Belgium girls who thought I was 26 years old or older. They were 21, but still. I helped them along, as I met them on the bus to the Terra Cotta Warriors and became their guide of sorts. I’m not sure how things like that always seem to happen to me, but they do.

The two Chloe’s and a Daphne (also two of them were twins) and I ventured to see the Terra Cotta Warriors or Bing Ma Yong as I kept on continually hearing while we were inside the gates of the Terra Cotta Pits.

We finished off the day running into a few people that somehow we had known in common throughout our 1 day in Xi’an and I listened to them speak French for about 30 minutes. Such a pretty language. It was a long day traveling an hour out to the Warriors and 3-4 hours there, and then an hour back. I was thoroughly tired. So I came back to the hostel rested a bit and then went out to see the city once more at night.

Xi’an was terribly hot during the day, but at night it was a cool summer in Xi’an and the Xi’anese seemed to wake up once the sun went down. I walked around on the area that is known as the Muslim Quarter of Xi’an where they were serving some very good lamb. I forgot about how much I like spicy Chinese food. Living in Qingdao has made me used to bland Chinese food. People closer to the south know how to cook.

After coming around to 11 pm I decided to crash. My new Belgium friends invited me to go out dancing with them that night, but I was so tired that dancing would’ve probably killed me. I can see why they thought I was old. Maybe I am becoming an old man. I remember when my body and mind would wake up around 11 pm.

Maybe my Dad’s joke is funnier, and truer than I know.

~

Mostly pictures of the Terra Cotta Warriors. They were probably the coolest thing I’ve seen in a long time. They called it the 8th wonder of the world, but I think I’ve heard everything called the 8th wonder of the world at one point or another. Except me, I don’t get called that, just old.

-NL

I even like trains, but this day was quite a struggle due to the long finishing hours on the train and then walking through Xi’an in the rain to my hostel. It was good though because I was able to see the city by foot which is always a bit more exciting than via taxi or bus.

So once I got turned around about 15 times I found the hostel in which I was to stay. I could tell this was a hostel because people were speaking English, Spanish, French and a mix of other language that I hadn’t heard in a long time.

I got up to my room where I met by a young Swiss girl who was traveling across the China via backpack and was having a fun time in the process. I layed down for a little bit and then grabbed my computer and headed downstairs to take advantage of some of the very slow Wifi to plan the rest of my trip in Xi’an.

While in conversation with a fellow American the power all of the sudden went out. Now this has happened to me before, but the last time it was on Christmas in Guilin, so I didn’t panic, but just laughed.

I took this as a good reason to pack up my stuff and start walking the city. I wasn’t going to make much progress in a place that had reduced itself to candles to light the place.

I walked outside and traversed the small area near the hostel where the Bell Tower and the Drum tower set. These ancient, but now refurbished places held old artifacts and hourly shows of bells in one tower and drums in the other. I’ll let you figure out which had which.

So I enjoyed myself reveling in the enormous drums and bells as well as avoiding torrential downpours between my sightseeing of the towers.

I finished off the night walking around and then resting at the hostel where I talked to some Swiss, French and some Dutch. I felt like the lone American still, but it was OK. It’s not like that’s anything new. I was planning to rest before tomorrow where I go to the famous Terra Cotta Warriors.

~

Below are pictures of the Bell Tower and the Drum Tower. They basically looked alike, except for what they contained. I’m a bit more partial to the Drum Tower. It was more interesting, and the drummers had more fun with the performance.

The last photo is proof of how “Western” Xi’an was. Super 8 Motels are jumping the pond.

-NL