THE FINAL COUNTDOWN

I've been in China for almost 8 weeks! That's almost 2 months! And now...

IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN.

Right now we're in the middle of finals week, which as anyone who has ever been to college knows means some studying, and a lot of PROCRASTINATION (like this blog post, for example). But it's weird knowing that this is my last week in China. My mind keeps cycling through a lists of "I can't wait for..." and then reverting back to, "but at home there's no...".

Right now my "I can't wait for..." list includes things like AC, normal toilets, ice cream, cheese, steak, bagel with cream cheese, falafel, salad, carrot cake, frosting (a whole other category entirely), blueberries, hamburger, mozzarella and tomato sandwich...I wouldn't say I'm asking for too much, would you?

And sure, that list also includes a few asterisks that are more, "get me away from..." You know, things like homicidal drivers, people hocking loogies in my personal space, and the fact that wherever I go and whatever I do, people will stare at me, mouth open, trying to guess where I'm from.

But at the same time, where at home can I find really good, really cheap, really authentic Chinese food? (staff of 老四川, if you're reading this, I will pay for you to live with me and cook for me at school). Or well-made bubble tea? Or my "friends" at the fitness center? Or the assurance that even if I sound like a 2-year-old, people will tell me, "Wow, you speak such great Chinese"?

What's more, I have to adjust back to speaking English. Which might probably sounds kind of pathetic, but seriously. I've devoted the past 2 months to channeling my thoughts and ideas into Chinese, so trying to 随便 switch to English is not as easy as it sounds. This has become obvious to me as I've continued to write this blog. Speaking of which, notice the word, "right," in first full paragraph? Yeah, I originally wrote "write" (cue self back-pat).

The language pledge has meant that for two months I've gotten to know my classmates in an entirely different language. With the exception of a few Yalies I knew beforehand, I only know the Chinese personalities of most of my peers. Which is kind of weird, when you think about it... But I guess, in many ways, peoples' real personalities have shone through. One classmate (I'm looking at you 老板), has maintained his VERY English, VERY idiomatic catchphrases, simply translated word-for-word into Chinese. And the thing is, these phrases have caught on. So we all shout, "为什么不?"--why not? ; 有牛肉--do you have beef? ; 新鲜到死--fresh to death ; and 老板--boss, things that make ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE WHATSOEVER in Chinese. But we've made them our own (much to the dismay of our very confused teachers).

In addition to my list of "I can't wait for..." I've even begun to add a few English sentences that I've been dying to say. It's rough when there's actually no sarcasm in Chinese. None. There's not even a word for it! (1.3 billion people and no sarcasm... WOW). As I've found in my classes, the teachers may be baffled by our idiomatic phrases (in a laugh at, not with type of way), but they are just not receptive at all to an American sense of humor. At least spoken humor. They seem to love it whenever I hit my head on something, almost fall off my chair, or gently mock my classmate (书恒, you know I love you)...Hey, at least that gave our 1-on-2 teacher a chance to teach us new vocabulary: 欺负--to bully.

The language pledge ends on Saturday, after 3 written finals and 2 presentations. So in some ways, it still seems like it's the distant future. But between now and then, I've just got to keep telling myself, "我觉得我会。我觉得我会". Translation?

Top Chef Harbin

If you know me well enough that you're reading my blog, you probably know that I LOVE food. I love to cook and eat, explore restaurants and farmer's markets, peruse food blogs and devour cooking magazines...basically anything related to food.

So when it came time for me to pick my 1-on-1 tutorial topic for the CET program, it was an easy decision: CHINESE FOOD CULTURE

In addition to learning a lot about a topic of your choice, the real purpose of the 1-on-1 is to improve reading and writing abilities, so my classes have been in a classroom, reading, discussing, and writing (while trying to prevent myself from drooling all over my essays). This past Friday was my final 1-on-1 class and my teacher decided that I should get a full, authentic experience by making the food myself.

My 老师 and I set off for her house. After a cab ride and a short walk, we reached a large, gray, cement apartment building. We hiked up to the 6th floor and entered the apartment, which she shares with her parents and her son. Although her father was not home, I was able to meet her son and her mom.

My teacher's apartment building.

Courtyard of the apartment building. My teacher's son is in the middle trading cards with friends.

老师's mom was a small, elderly woman who, I quickly realized, would be my sous-chef. My 老师 had told me she was not a good cook, but I figured this was just the characteristic Chinese modesty. It seemed, however, that her mom shared this view, as the menial tasks like washing vegetables were left to her, while her mom and I did the real cooking.

Table where the 3 of us ate.

Disproportionately large TV. For Sunday Night Football?

The menu for the day was a combination of her suggestions and my own, all 炒菜: stir-fried dishes. The dishes were 西红柿炒鸡蛋 (tomatoes and scrambled eggs), 辣椒炒牛肉(stir-fried peppers and beef), 鱼香茄子(spicy eggplant), and 干煸豆角(spicy dried green beans). Once the ingredients were out on the counter, we quickly got down to business. 老师's mom would give me instructions and I would work. At first she was apprehensive, especially when she handed me their chopping cleaver. I've worked in a professional kitchen before, so I'm used to using big, sharp knives. But when this little old lady pulled out a cleaver, I was a little concerned too.

Wok--check. Rice cooker--check. Welcome to China!

The first thing you notice when you WOK in the kitchen.

I began to chop and she breathed a sigh of relief before turning to 老师 and saying, "she chops much better than you do." Not awkward at all...

After chopping, I moved over the giant wok. Beside the wok were a large ladle (ok, no worries) and a pair of LONG chopsticks. WHAT? Chopsticks are apparently a cooking tool, but only if they are about 18 inches long. I've mastered using chopsticks to eat, but that's for small foods with small chopsticks. This was picking up entire eggplants with foot-and-a-half long knitting needles chopsticks. In other words, long enough that I had absolutely no control over what they were doing. I waved the sticks around like antennae, until 老师's mom yanked them away, handing me a pair of tongs. Chopsticks-1, Emily-0.

Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this wok thing...

Looks like my teacher's mom disagrees...

We kept on going at a fast pace until all four dishes were done and laid out on the table. And not going to lie, the dishes looked pretty (cue self back-pat). With the four dishes, a pot of tea, three small bowls of rice, and homemade zhou, the table was all set.

NOMS 1: Eggs and tomatoes. Peppers and beef.

NOMS 2: Spicy dried green beans.

NOMS 3:Okay, so maybe the name translates to fish-smelling eggplant, but I SWEAR it doesn't taste like fish or have fish in it. REALLY.

The three of us sat silently, hunched over our bowls of mifan--white rice. "吃多菜。吃多菜。" The silence was punctuated by 老师's mom demanding encouraging me to eat more. In Chinese culture, when a person has guests over for a meal, they are supposed to encourage their guests to eat more, and more, and more, far past the point of comfort. The guest, once full and done with the food on his/her plate, can politely refuse by saying, 我吃饱了--I'm full. The host will usually insist three or four more times before accepting the polite refusal. Even though I was the cook at this meal, I was still a guest in 老师's house, so it was only appropriate that her mom would make sure that I ate. A LOT.

The meal ended with fresh watermelon. I got up to leave and profusely thanked both 老师 and her mom. 老师's mom's response?

"Eat more. Are you sure you're full?"

I awkwardly smiled and insisted that I was full, before heading out back through the courtyard with the recipes that my teacher had given me.

As I work this weekend on my final paper for my 1-on-1 class, I can't help but thinking, can't I just cook? Anyone can write about Chinese food, but to make it, you've got to understand it.

Oh well, I guess I'll just have to finish my research by eating at a few local restaurants. It's a tough life :)

It's the Economy, stupid!

Before coming to China, I had obviously heard of the Cult of Mao. I've seen the giant statutes in his honor (see Dandong post), seen the lines that form in front of his Maosoleum mausoleum, and learned that the places he went and foods he ate are revered by Chinese people.

I had not, however, anticipated the Cult of Deng. If you're not very familiar with Chinese history, in 1978 Deng Xiaoping took over as chairman of the Chinese Communist Party and began his a process of economic development,改革开放, which opened up the Chinese economy to the rest of the world.

Admit it. He's kind of adorable.

China credits Deng and his policies with the past 33 years of insane economic growth. In other words, the people of China LOVE Deng. On a regular basis my teachers use Deng's policies as examples for grammar structures. One teacher was especially proud of introducing the word for "debt" and giving a example that translates to "China is the United States' debt master"

I haven't heard many people talk about Mao or thank Mao, but Deng...that's another story entirely.

Example 1: After returning from Dandong, two of my teachers asked me on two separate occasions what the people of North Korea looked like. Knowing that this was somewhat of a trick question, I replied, "They looked kind of unhappy. And their buildings were all crumbling and old."

Both teachers replied that this is what China was like before Deng. And then both teachers, on separate occasions, looked up (towards heaven? Deng? a fly on the ceiling?) when they mentioned Deng and his economic policies. It was as though Deng was god, watching over China and moving them out of North Korean conditions.

I'm not saying that North Korean economic conditions are desirable, but it's not like I'm looking at the sky to thank John Boehner for raising the debt ceiling.

Example 2: A few weeks ago I had a discussion with my Chinese roommate about issues in China. I asked her what she thought about things like the one-child policy and the firewall, since people in the west sometimes say that they are both human rights violations. My roommate assured me that the people of China are happy because they're materially satisfied.

But what about freedom of expression? She shook her head. "Why? If we have jobs and economic development, that's important."

It totally boggled my mind. In the US, we talk about how people in China are unhappy with the Chinese government and issues of human rights and freedom of expression in China. It's not that my roommate isn't aware of these things, it's that as long as she has new clothes and a cell phone (her examples, NOT mine), she doesn't care.

Forget about Patrick Henry! Here, it's "Screw liberty! Just give me a the new iPhone!" The key is that it's just a totally different mindset, one that regardless of how hard I try, I just can't totally understand.

MUST HAVE NEW IPHONE!

Example 3: In my conversational Chinese class this week, we covered a chapter on transportation. My teacher asked about the challenges that accompany building roads or a new railway. One classmate mentioned that you displace a lot of people, which is kind of, sort of, a BIG PROBLEM.

My teacher tilted her head and smiled in a way that suggested, 'what naive waiguoren'. "But it's the government's investment. So it's not really our business to question or make judgments if they want to fund a new rail system."

Eminent Domain? As if!

If the government wants to build the tallest building in the world or a new highway, as long as it's government money, who cares? I'm not sure really sure if this view only holds up until THAT house becomes MY house...am I still supposed to be pleased with economic development when it means watching my house be plowed over by bulldozers?

当然！

Example 4 (my personal favorite): This past weekend, three classmates and I went to Harbin's Jewish museum. Yes, I said Jewish. In China. Not only in China, in Harbin. WHAT?

So apparently about 20,000 Jews from Russia and Eastern Europe fled to Harbin during and shortly after the Bolshevik Revolution. They had a good thing going for themselves until some left when the Japanese invaded and established Manchuko (which the museum did cite as a reason) or until the vast majority fled with the establishment of the People's Republic of China in 1949 (which the the museum failed to mention as a possible impetus for flight).

Okay, so I don't know why this was in the Harbin museum, but...

The museum is in the "New Synagogue," a three story building in the center of Harbin that was built in 1921. The first floor houses a few random paintings that are supposedly of Harbin. But once you mount the stairs you get to the Jew part of the museum. Once you pass through the story of how and why the Jews came to Harbin you entire an entire floor that is devoted to the "numerous economic miracles" that the Jews brought to Harbin.

Wait, what?

"Harbin Jews brought about numerous economic miracles by bringing into full play their intellectual and business talent...the development of the modern city of Harbin offered the Jews an opportunity for creating new enterprises and providing a solid foundation for their later economic activities in Europe and America"

Nothing much, you know, just making some ECONOMIC MIRACLES!

BAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

OK, let me clarify. I don't find it funny because I doubt any of what the sign says or that the Jews did help Harbin advance economically. I just have yet to see the Chinese show this kind of admiration and reverence for anyone who is not Chinese.

Why so much love?

It's the economy, stupid!

So maybe Clinton wasn't referencing the Jews in Harbin when he said this, but the fact of the matter is that when it comes to priorities in China, Clinton was spot on. Jews made "economic miracles," so they get a shrine museum. Makes sense. At least I won't argue with it.

Honestly, as long as China's economy keeps chugging along, skyscrapers keep magically appearing overnight, and high-speed railways link cities hundreds of miles away, it seems like Chinese people will be happy. I mean, why not?***


***UUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMM.........算了...

Sweat, Gossip, and Ping Pong: a Peak Inside a Chinese Fitness Club

After almost six weeks in Harbin, I'm really starting to look forward to certain aspects of my American homecoming. I wouldn't say it's homesickness...more like "western food, normal toilet, air-conditioning" sickness.

But I've found that one of the best ways to combat these feelings is by frequenting my Harbin home...Not my dorm or the international student building, but good ol' Meili Fangzhou--Fitness Ark. When I bought a 2-month membership card for the gym, little did I know that I was also buying my golden ticket (actually my card is red--what else would it be?) into a place that could be a sauna, a living room, a cafe...basically a peak into real life in Harbin.

But let's take a step back.

About half a mile from our dorm you'll find a sketchy alleyway. It's pretty big--for an alleyway-- but it's constantly undergoing construction, which means that it usually has the pleasant smell that accompanies open manhole covers in China. If you look past the piles of sand, bricks, and wooden planks, you can see a door. No, not that door. That door leads into a supermarket. The other one...Perfect.

Can you find the door? Look harder...

Oh, no need to roll out the red carpet for me...

Hopefully you've found the right door, which will lead to the elevator. But before you push the elevator button, make sure to check the door for a sign. The elevator is pretty spotty and every once in a while it's broken, which means a hike up to the 5th floor. I would say "Awesome! What a great warm-up for my run," but I'm pretty sure you could contract tetanus, asbestos, or something far worse in those stairs. So, cross your fingers and hope the elevator is working.

Success! It is! Step in and ride on up to the 5th floor. Once you get there, turn left into a large room filled with treadmills. Before you approach, however, make sure to give your card to one of the women who are permanently seated at the desk. They'll swipe it and hand it back, before quickly returning to their engrossing conversations with gym regulars.

Usually occupied by old, gossiping women.

Now, walk over to the treadmill. There are about 20 treadmills and a handful of ellipticals. If there is a person using the machine, odds are they're walking about 5 km/hr, or 3mph. If that doesn't mean anything to you, it's a pretty comfortable, even leisurely, pace. But notice that all of the people are sweating. And not just a little bit. BUCKETS. Everyone is drenched in sweat, wiping their faces with towels while sweat literally drips off of them.

Did they just finish an intense workout?

Nope. It's just that hot in here. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention: when you get off the elevator, expect to hit a wall of heat. Humid, heavy heat that makes it hard to do anything BUT sweat.

Knowing that the sweat will flow, you climb onto a treadmill and begin to run. And as you run, heads start to turn and fingers start to point. Old ladies sitting on the couches in the corner begin to whisper and glare at you. A group of loud teenagers hanging around a table will start to chuckle and imitate your arm motions. Why? Well, it is partly because you don't look like them, but it's also because you are running. And people just don't run on treadmills here. They walk, trudge, shuffle, and sometimes run for 1-2 minute intervals. But running for an extended period? Now, why would anyone want to use a treadmill for that?

Lonely treadmills looking for runners.

NOTE: the lighting in the weight room is REALLY that bad.

At this point, however, you're pretty used to the stares and the gossiping women. So you tune them out and focus your attention on the large TV screens in front of you. Usually one will provide you with some great, unbiased news per CCTV--China Central TV, or as I like to call it Crazy Communist TV. If you're lucky, the other TV might be showing a Chinese TV show. My two favorites so far are the soap opera-esque show about the Chinese army in the mid-20th century and the slapstick sitcom whose main character appears to be a large bottle of baijiu.

Eyes glued to the screen. MUST WATCH CCTV.

During a commercial break on TV, you might as well take a peek at the epic battle on your right. We're talking Deathly Hallows, Return of the King, Avatar epic. People will unsheathe their weapons and soon there will be casualties. Once in a while, a stray shot might even cause a civilian casualty.

But this isn't just any epic battle. This is an epic ping pong battle. Large (usually shirtless) men bring their personal paddles and covers (who knew that you could buy ping pong paddle covers?). Then all hell breaks loose. Grunts, groans, screams, moans. Blood, sweat, and tears. You never know what will happen when two people draw paddles and play begins.

One of the great battle sites in Chinese history: Meili Fangzhou's ping pong table.

All of a sudden, a women climbs onto the treadmill on your left. Fine...but, wait. Is she wearing flip flops? And JEANS? Oh yeah. Fitness center fashion in China is in its own category entirely. In the US, most gym regulars would either wear their high tech, moisture wicking, synthetic Nike tops OR an old, free T-shirt that was white at some point in time, but now is more of an off-yellow. In China, anything goes! People come straight from work and, why bother changing? So you'll see flip flops, loafers, slacks, dresses, jeans, etc...

Dance Studio: Never any dancers. Sometimes men sleeping on the floor. TOTALLY NORMAL.

By the time you process all of these distractions, you realized that you're done with your run. You cool down and stretch (people are still glaring), and then head back towards the elevator. As you ride the elevator back down, you let out a sigh...the place is really starting to grow on you. Or maybe you're not sighing, but wheezing as your body tries to react to the buckets of sweat it just poured out. Either way, don't worry! You can come back tomorrow and see all of the familiar, gossiping friendly faces...

Old Harbin: Noms and...PUPPIES

This past Saturday, CET scheduled a trip to Old Harbin. When I heard the name and was given a map with highlighted "preserved streets," I assumed we were headed to Harbin's very own Williamsburg--we would see old buildings in mint condition and perhaps (my fingers were crossed), a few Harbiners clothed in fashions from the early 20th century.

Expecting to find the Chinese Williamsburg, I was slightly disappointed when the bus dropped us off at a busy intersection, with the driver screaming at us to get off as people honked from behind...maybe not historical China, but certainly AUTHENTIC China.

Well that doesn't look out of place in Harbin at all...

LOOK! It's sky blue disco mosque!

Anyway, we hopped out across from a large, blue mosque. And when I say blue, I mean sky blue, baby blue, aqua blue...a pretty color, sure. But the color of a mosque next to an intersection in Harbin? Maybe not...

Passing by the mosque, we continued to walk along streets lined with old buildings. Despite the demarcation of "PRESERVED" on the map CET gave us, the buildings were run-down and decrepit. Some of them clearly had been beautiful and impressive at some point in time, but now they were sad and even kind of pathetic. The buildings continued in the same style until we peeled off into a smaller alley filled with food carts.

"Preserved" buildings.

???????

"Preserved" buildings part 2.

Housing bubble much?

There were vegetable carts, fruits carts, seafood stands, butchers, bakers, etc...I love going to food markets at home and seeing fresh produce and goods with the people who make them. But China makes the experience even more real: crawfish crawling out of their containers, butchers slitting chickens' throats, ducks roasting over fiery flames. Obviously we were the only foreigners in the alley and most of the salesmen got a kick out of guessing where we were from: Russia? Canada? Sweden--Do Chinese people even know what the stereotypical Swede looks like? Because I'm pretty sure it's NOT me.






Exiting the alley, we continued down the road and headed out to the riverside. Moseying down by the river we walked through the "bird and fish market." By bird and fish, it really meant grimy little newts and tadpoles. Tupperware containers filled with water and small fish lined the street. The fish salesmen sat on sofas behind the containers and in front of enormous glass fish tanks. Given that the fish were so tiny, I can't imagine who would buy tank that could fit 3-4 people in it. Umm... WEIRD.

The large statue with a wheelbarrow near the river. Bizarre? I'd say it's just Harbin.

Oh, I'm sorry. Are you trying to cross the street? Too bad! There is no street!

After we passed through the fish, we came to a puppy section. Let me repeat that: PUPPIES. As in tons of puppies of every kind playing, barking, nibbling, napping, etc...As in my heart melted and I turned into a sappy mess. I'll admit, I sniffled a bit when a saw a few that reminded me of Kim J (Oh, my Kim J)...but the small huskie nibbling on my finger made it hard to stay sad for too long.

AWWWWW...

CUTE...

PUPPIES PLAYING...

PUPPIES SLEEPING...

I WANT IT NOW!

TOO CUTE FOR WORDS...

We took forever in the puppy section and only left because we realized we had to rejoin the group for dinner. Still babbling about the puppies, we headed for dinner.

Sunset over the Songhua.

I Left My Heart in the Paws of Kim J: Dandong Part 3

TWELVE WONDROUS, RESTFUL HOURS LATER.

After what might be the best sleep I have ever gotten, the next morning we headed to the Tiger Mountain Great Wall. The actual wall has been restored and lacks the remote locale and ancient feel of other sections of the wall. However, this area's biggest draw is that its peak looks out onto North Korea. We climbed stair after stair along with busloads of Chinese tourists. Yet we made it up much faster than any of them. I was starting to feel so accomplished...that is until I looked down.

Tiger Mountain rises out of the mist.

I had come prepared to hike, wearing nothing less than my very stylish running shoes. The Chinese women, on the other hand, were wearing sundresses and heels. Not like cute little wedges, but pumps--4 inch heels that would cause me to lose my balance on flat ground. If foot-binding is really a thing of the past, why on earth do these women insist on torturing their feet?

4-inch pumps are OBVIOUSLY a good idea when the stairs look like a sheer cliff.

Well, largely due to what I guess would cause slight (read: EXTREME) discomfort, most of the Chinese turned around after reaching the highest point. Not us. We continued on the path down the other side of the mountain--the side that faced the Yalu River estuary. The trail quickly morphed into an obstacle course, with bad footing and tight squeezes that required all of our attention. We were so focused that we didn't even realize where we were until we were up against a barbed fence. The fence was marked with a sign, proclaiming that this was the National Border of the P.R.C. and the D.P.R.K. Past the fence was the river and the North Korean side's fence. After asking my friends whether the the river could be considered North Korean land (they said yes), I sprinted down towards it and placed my foot in it (really my shoe: I want to go to North Korea, not get some freakish disease from contaminated water. Duh). So my right foot's been to North Korea. Has yours? Didn't think so.

There was a warning sign before this bridge. When something in China is considered dangerous, it's probably LETHAL.

Notice: 1)INTENSE; 2)It's in English. Obviously it's the Americans, not the Chinese, who would want to cross the border.

Requisite artsy shot through barbed wire.

Yeah. That's North Korea. NBD.

I might have stayed there or waded out deeper into the water if I hadn't spotted a small hut a couple hundred meters inland on the North Korean side.

"I just saw two people move in that hut" 魏德 warned.

My first reaction was to ignore him...that is until I remembered a line from my Lonely Planet guidebook: "Close up, the border fence on the DPRK side looks like a less-then-effective barrier, but don't try to test it; a gun-toting soldier may suddenly appear"...Yeah, I think I'll pass on that gun-toting soldier. So I removed my foot and headed back onto the trail.

I spy with my little eye...A SPY!

The trail weaved alongside the river, eventually bringing us back to the parking lot, where we hailed cabs and headed back to Dandong. After lunch and an intense Tesco run (15 hours on a train=breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks), we walked to the buxing jie, Dandong's pedestrian street. The street was filled with people shopping and old Chinese people dancing. Halfway down the street was a zhenzhu naicha--Bubble Tea--stand with literally hundreds of flavors, including Watermelon, Blueberry, Coffee, Peanut Butter, Green Tea, etc... Being the indecisive person I am, it took me forever to decide on a flavor. And obviously I chose the original flavor...it's name is even diyi weidao, #1 flavor.

Buxing Jie: home to bubble tea, elderly Chinese people dancing, and puppies.

Sipping my tea and strolling down the road, my eyes zoomed in on a crate holding 4 balls of fluffy adorableness: PUPPIES! Eyes wide and mouth open I ran over to the dogs and began to blubber about how cute they were. My mind was moving a million miles a minutes, and pretty soon I had my plan all figured out:

I would name the dog Kim J--the obvious choice--and he would sit on my lap for the 15 hour train ride. Then I would hide him in my dorm in Harbin for four weeks. I'm pretty sure my budget for food under the Light Fellowship could cover Kim J and I, so that would be no problem. The no-pets rule at the dorm could be overlooked because I would hide him in my backpack whenever I took him outside. And when he starts to grow, I can transfer him to my massive hiking pack. He would have to be quarantined once we returned to the US, but after that we would live happily ever after in my dorm back at TD...

"BUT..."

With that fatal word, my dreams of happiness were crushed by my so-called friends. But it would be too difficult. But I would get in trouble. But the 15 hour train ride would be impossible. But, but, but, but, but....

(SIGH)

After a long, painful, parting embrace, I kissed Kim J goodbye and walked away, leaving my heart in his adorable little paws.

Kim J: I will always love you.

Though still heartbroken during dinner, I began to feel better when we returned to the waterfront to see the light and fountain show. This was Saturday night and even more people were out along the water, dancing and sending red lanterns up into the sky. Yet, however brighter and louder Dandong was, the North Korean side appeared that much more depressing (well real it didn't appear at all...there were still no lights to be seen).

Later that evening we returned to our wonderful beds and said goodnight.

THREE WONDROUS, RESTFUL HOURS LATER.

Yeah, not quite as nice as 12 hours. But our train was at 6:40AM, so we had to be up to check out at 5:30. We got to the train station and the time to board arrived. The miserable ride to Dandong flashed across my mind and my entire body winced. You know those scenes in horror movies where you see the characters open the door and walk into what's obviously a haunted house, and all you're thinking is, "Don't do it! How could you be so stupid?"...Well that's what my conscience was saying as a sat back down in my yingzuo hardseater.

The ride, though much more tolerable than to Dandong, was still 15 hours. I went through the phases of discomfort, stiffness, cabin fever, delirium, and finally ecstasy when we finally rolled into the Harbin station at 9:30PM.

Overall, the weekend was incredible in every way. I didn't make it into the heart of Pyongyang, but I saw North Korea (and my foot entered the country). All I know is when it comes to Dandong, I'll be back. And until then, don't mind me if I create a DIY North Korean passport stamp.

From North Korea with Love. Kim and I 4eva.