Classic Blog – My Day

I wake up just before my alarm rings at 7:30 AM, the sunlight hasn’t entered my West-facing room yet and the morning is still cool. After listening to NPR’s five-minute news report (more to hear the voices I grew up with riding to school in the car with my mom than for the actual news; “Oregon and Washington have been pounded by rain and windstorms…” Really? You call that news NPR?) I head out, and by the end of the fifteen minute walk across campus and down the tree-lined grand stone staircase, the sun has come out and begun to warm the streets of Kunming.

My morning classes are “Environment and Development” and “Kunming Studies.” I give my presentation on Starbucks’ environmental action, we discuss and move onto my classmate’s chosen corporations, including Exxon Mobile, and the discussion, as usual, escalates to a heated debate. “Kunming Studies” topic of the week is Yunnan’s NGO’s and our discussion is significantly milder although we do find opportunities to make fun of each other and laugh.

Lunch on Wednesdays is the best because our program pays the bill for “Chinese Table” and we all get to eat together at a slightly nicer restaurant than usual. Today’s restaurant is tucked down in a narrow cobblestone alley and the food is fantastic. I linger with Lili, our wonderful Assistant Program Director, and two other friends savoring the last few sautéed vegetables, not wanting to get up.

I arrive for my afternoon One-on-one special studies class (Yunnan Ethnic Minorities Dances) a little early, change into ballet slippers and shed my outer layers. Light shines in the six-floor windows, outside clear blue skies, pink and orange flowers peeking through dark green leaves that drape the faded buildings lining Green Lake. I put my headphones on, set Macklemore’s “Thin Line” to repeat and what begins as plies and tendus to warm my legs up melts into a private world of movement, simultaneous self-awareness and blindness. The only thing restricting my movement, the cord of my headphones, creates a force field that only I live in.

I’m startled out of this moment when I notice my pretty teacher, He Lu, has arrived. She hands me a can of coconut juice and asks “What were you dancing? Modern ballet?” I’m not really sure myself. He Lu, from Sichuan, talks fast, eats spicy, and dances like a boss. She never hesitates to tell me when my movements are “wrong!” or “too ugly!”and I love her to death. Today we get to spend the full two hours dancing, no research discussion, quizzes, or criticism of my pronunciation, just working on the austere Dai Peacock Dance. My hands get sore from the foreign gestures, I’m learning how to dance with gentle, implicit beauty, and it’s new for me but my body is beginning to understand.

Having learned all the choreography fairly well, we end class and I begin to pack my things up. She moves to the front and starts working through some choreography for her next class. I recognize it as hip hop from a K-Pop music video that I tried to teach myself once (BoA’s “Eat You Up.”) She turns up the music and we break it down for a few minutes. I leave class smiling and feeling invigorated.

Today we also have a special activity – cooking class! There are few students this time, but we enjoy washing, cutting, and stir-frying together. Will whips up some eggs Sunnyside Up and Lucas buys some French bread for a lovely American breakfast-style side dish. Kate, our fantastic Student Life Director, comes to join us and we joke around and laugh more. After dinner, we wash our dishes in a line in an alley outside, the sun lingers with us and I feel calm.
Starting the walk back to our dorms, I realize I’m feeling happy. It feels a little strange.

The thing is, life studying abroad is not always like this. Because it’s still life. Loneliness, broken fingernails, academic stress, exhaustion, heartbreak, the good days and the bad (and the real real bad) follow us wherever we go, no matter what. Sometimes it’s hard to admit, my life here is really not so majestic. I usually try to tell the best stories, and hide the rest, compressing them into a few cryptic sentences, but you know what? It’s ok. Because today was a good day.

Thank you family, friends, and teachers for taking care of me and giving me opportunities to experience days like today. I love you and happy Thanksgiving!