Saturday Night Fever

Saturday. That beautiful, peaceful, single day of the week when you are allowed to stay in bed until 10 in the morning, and where procrastinating is encouraged. It is a day for relaxing, for catching your breath, for enjoying life. For me, Saturday is a time for me to become human again. And that, my friends, is exactly what I have done.

The day started out slow. In the traditional lazy Saturday morning tradition, I didn't get out of bed until 9:30, surfing facebook, checking my emails. You know, all the important things that us learned college students do in the morning. By the time that lunch time rolled around, I was more than ready to get out of the white walled cell that passes for a dorm room.

Today's mantra was "A walk down memory lane." Meeting an old friend at Taiping Jiaozi Guanr... That certainly brings back memories. It was my favorite dumpling place when I was living in Beijing, and I believe it may still be my favorite place. The 13 kuai ($1.90) cab ride was completely worth it. Good times were had by all, I am sure. Not to mention the quick trip over to the DVD store... For any and all questions regarding that trip, please look to the 5th amendment. But enough with the fun stuff. Let's get down to business.

What do you think about when you think about the gym? If you go to a normal gym, you probably think about all the intimidating machines, toned people stuck in their own worlds with earbuds blasting, and the faint smell of sweat that pervades everything. If you are one of the few people who are smart enough to know and go to Crossfit, then you probably think about the community that it fosters, about the intensity of the workouts, and about the amazing adrenaline rush that you get when you are done, and lying gasping for air on the floor (Fran, anyone?)

Normally, when I am in America, this what is what I think about too. The first gym (the normal one) being the gym in Vermont, and the Crossfit gym being in California. But here in China, that is not the case at all. For most gyms here, the defining feature is a long stretch of treadmills that line the wall, and a tiny corner with a limited supply of weights. Weird? Think about it. Most Chinese don't go to the gym, and the ones who do, just walk on the treadmill.

In case I haven't filled you in enough, I actually did go to the gym today. I had a free session with a personal trainer, that I decided to cash in on today. It did not start out well. The absolute first thing he did (after saying hello, of course. Come on now, China is not THAT backwards) was to drag me over to the scale. Now, I don't know about you, but the scale and I have a little bit of a tense relationship (ie, I haven't gotten on one in probably 6 months.) It's just something I would rather not know. So imagine how thrilled I was when I got the scale, looked at the trainer, and heard him say "oh. That's not so good. You should probably lose 10 pounds." I'll be the first to admit that my Chinese is not awesome, but I would bet money that I heard correctly on that one.

He then proceeded to measure every part of my body (arms, waste, hips, thighs), before pinching all my fat, and measuring it with how many fingers he could get. Huh. It was thrilling really. And his overall conclusion? "You have a lot of fat. You should really lose it. Then you will be pretty." Gee, thanks. To be fair, I don't think he meant it how I took it. Chinese people have this annoying habit of being super honest. It can drive you crazy. I think he was just trying to help me exercise, and he was just trying to tell me how it was. But really now, what girl likes to be told that she has too much fat?

He then proceeded to give me a work out that ended me the vast majority of my body in muscle failure. One of the beauties of working out with a personal trainer though, was that in between me lifting weights, he would stretch my muscles out for me. Yes, it most definitely hurt (I am not nearly as flexible as I should be) but it was kind of awesome. And honestly, I did not know that my body could bend like that. There were times when I was convinced that I was going to rip something, or possibly lose a leg. I am happy to report that I still have 2 arms, 2 legs, and 1 head. For the moment, anyway.

That lovely, happy, completely exhausted that typically follows you around after going to the gym lasted all the way up to dinner, at which point, I simply turned into a tired hungry dictator, running for the nearest restaurant and chowing down, with my friend Kirie. I don't care what the trainer says, I am still going to eat food that I want to.

One last interesting cultural story for you to ponder on before getting on with your lives. I met with my language partner tonight, and we sat in the lobby of my building, practicing speaking Chinese. Technically, we were actually reading an article in a newspaper, and she was helping me understand it, but you know what I mean. We were sitting there, when this slightly crazy looking man sits down next to us, and asks Yu Haiying (my language partner) if I was American, to which I responded that I was (DUH, I was sitting there speaking Chinese with her. You would think that that would be a big clue that I MIGHT be able to speak Chinese.) He started using broken English to talk to me, and what I got from the conversation was that he either wanted me to model for him, or he wanted to see my room to see American culture. Needless to say, I was more than a little weirded out, and I tried every possible thing that I could to make him leave. In the end, out of anger, I think, he stopped talking to me, and started speaking Chinese to my language partner, telling her that he knew about Americans, that we were bad influences, that we only had bad motives, and were out to ruin China, and that unless I was paying her a lot of money, she should stay far away from me and not help me. This was then proceeded by a 10 year old girl worthy storm away.

I learned later (I am still iffy on this though, I didn't totally understand what Haiying was telling me) that he wanted to talk about American culture with me. Still, it was good that I didn't talk to him for too long (I told him I was busy, bloody hell!) because he was definitely a little weird. Ah well. Broken English is just one of the beauties of living in China.

Thanks for taking time out of your day to read my blog! Talk to you soon :)