I'm working hard to get my packing list in order. In the last month, I've amassed a travel wardrobe that can be rolled and crumpled, mixed and matched, rinsed out in a sink, dried on a line, and (hopefully) worn for five or six weeks straight. Past packing misadventures tell me that I'm prone to last-minute add-ons: an extra pair of shoes, a second purse, a pair of jeans I'll never wear. Not this time. Though, in all honesty, it's not the clothes and accessories I'm in danger of overpacking. It's the travel stuff: the u-shaped neck pillow and 33 decibel ear plugs in two styles, the 500 pill pack of Imodium (please God, don't make me need 500 Imodium tablets.). The pocket knife with cork screw attached, the collapsible knife, fork, and spoon combo for those days when chopsticks get the best of me, the mini-flashlight, the leak-proof water bottle, DEET to ward off hungry Mosquitos, and a nifty little pocket calculator to help me convert renminbi amounts into dollars.
Okay, so I'm not streamlining. Frankly, I'm hoping that an overpacked bag can still be a well-packed one. Here's my inspiration--a YouTube video a friend shared with me:
http://m.youtube.com/index?desktop_uri=%2F&gl=US#/watch?xl=xl_blazer&v=mdRl3dBGxRs
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Neurotics Abroad
Last night, I was telling my sister about the shots I'd had in preparation for my trip to China--Hepatitis A, Hepatitis B, Japanese Encephalitis, and Typhoid--and the prescription drugs I'd be taking with me--anti-Malarial medication and Cipro, a powerful antibiotic. I told her about the long flight to Shanghai and my concerns about the fact that I don't speak Chinese. I can't even seem to master a simple "thank you" in Mandarin. She looked at me a little puzzled, and then asked, "why would anybody choose to do this?". "it's an adventure," I told her. And it is. But it's also anxiety producing.
My anxieties are not what I think most people would expect, though. Despite the shots and the meds, I'm not anxious about illness. I'm not worried about safety, homesickness, living arrangements, or unusual foods. My biggest worry is this: will I have a sense of humor in China? Not will I find the humor in things. I feel certain that I'll laugh at myself there as much as I do here. I'm worried that the Chinese won't think I'm funny. Not even a teeny, weeny bit amusing. When this concern surfaced, it made me realize how much I try to make people laugh as a way to navigate the world. I use it all the time when I teach, and the thought of a month-long class with no humor terrifies me. Three days a week, three hours a day, tossing out lame jokes that nobody gets. All of those serious students waiting to learn serious things, and i just keep making lost joke after lost joke. Let's hope there aren't any hecklers in the crowd.
Of course, I think it might be prudent to spend some of my worry time fretting about things that really could get me into a heap of trouble--like my pitiful sense of direction. After all, I'm the person who got hopelessly lost once on her way to an orienteering class, so I have some serious cause for concern.
This is going to be an adventure. No doubt about it.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
My anxieties are not what I think most people would expect, though. Despite the shots and the meds, I'm not anxious about illness. I'm not worried about safety, homesickness, living arrangements, or unusual foods. My biggest worry is this: will I have a sense of humor in China? Not will I find the humor in things. I feel certain that I'll laugh at myself there as much as I do here. I'm worried that the Chinese won't think I'm funny. Not even a teeny, weeny bit amusing. When this concern surfaced, it made me realize how much I try to make people laugh as a way to navigate the world. I use it all the time when I teach, and the thought of a month-long class with no humor terrifies me. Three days a week, three hours a day, tossing out lame jokes that nobody gets. All of those serious students waiting to learn serious things, and i just keep making lost joke after lost joke. Let's hope there aren't any hecklers in the crowd.
Of course, I think it might be prudent to spend some of my worry time fretting about things that really could get me into a heap of trouble--like my pitiful sense of direction. After all, I'm the person who got hopelessly lost once on her way to an orienteering class, so I have some serious cause for concern.
This is going to be an adventure. No doubt about it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, March 17, 2011
What's This Campaign All About?
I leave for Xi'an, China in less than a month. I'll teach for four weeks at Xi'an International Studies University, and then I'll meet friends to travel for a while. I'm feeling a lot of things about this trip: excited, fortunate, anxious, and unprepared. Traveling to China is a new thing for me. A great big new thing, and the latest adventure in my New Things Campaign. The campaign started in October 2009. Feeling simultaneously bored and boring, I decided to challenge myself to do one new thing each month. Nothing big; nothing life changing. My rules were simple: the event had to be new and intentional. No going passively into this campaign. The first month, I went to a jazz concert. Next, I walked in a 5K race. I've gone snow tubing, climbed a smallish rock-strewn mountain, gone to paddling school, taken crochet lessons and a cooking class. I've explored new cities, cooked new dishes for new dinner guests, and I've made this big plan for April and May 2011. China. This ancient civilization is...well, it's my biggest, newest thing. I'll keep you posted on my adventure in this blog. And I encourage you to join my campaign. One new thing a month could make us all a little more engaged.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)