We'll meet 'neath that giant Apple sign/That brings this fair city light

Well, I'm back here in Beijing, waiting on a bus to take me off to Guyuan. It's a straight bus ride, no trains this time. We don't know much about where we're going, we only know that our TAs will be actual English teachers, and that we'll have twice as many kids in a class than we're used to. Both of these facts worry me a little more than they should, because if I'm being helped by a teacher, I'm going to have to bring my A game every day. More kids shouldn't be much of a problem, unless they're unruly. If they're unruly, things might get bad. We'll see when we get there.

Being back in Beijing reminds me of a thought that crossed my mind while we were in Qufu, and I'd like to elaborate on it a bit here. As I stood on the stairs one night, I realized that I no longer saw the place I was as a foreign country, it was simply a place where I lived. It didn't disturb me much then, and I didn't really think all that much of it until I got back to Beijing, and had all of the things I'm used to back home readily available to me. Now that I'm here, the thought feels different. I feel like I live here, but I also feel like I don't. It's like I'm stuck somewhere in transit, and it's a pretty uncomfortable feeling. Itt'l make more sense if I put it into context.

We went out last night to a Sizzler for dinner, and for 49 yuan I got chicken, a baked potato, and all of the salad bar we could eat. I ate with a voracity and a gusto for food that I haven't had in years. It was amazing to have raw vegetables again, and even better to have bread that wasn't steamed or nearly unbearably sweet. All of the food was good, but it was also discernibly off from the way that it should have been, like they tried to make it feel like an American restaurant and missed ever-so-slightly, and that slight miss amplified the distance between myself and China, and myself and home.
We proceeded to take the train to the embassy district, where there is a bar called the Stumble Inn that Ben and Danny frequent. It's in the middle of an upscale shopping mall that sells western goods, and is home to one of the two real Apple stores in the city. The bar's on the roof and the giant, white Apple sign illuminates the deck, which looks out on all the shoppers and stores. We made it in during happy hour, where I was able to procure a Manhattan, and then moved on to cheap, cheap Martinis. The place was full of Brits, and there was Rugby on the TV. I still don't understand how Rugby works. It was really good to sit on a roof in the Beijing heat and unwind for a night, but every now and then I'd realize that I was still in China, and I felt that distance.

It comes up every now and then during the day, too. I'll be daydreaming, and my mind will wander back home, and when I come to from the daydream, I'll think I'm back in America, and then I realize that I'm not, and that distance comes back. I think it will get better with time, and I hope it does. I have one year here left as of tomorrow, and if it goes as quickly as the last two camps, I'll be home in no time at all. Either way, I have to pack and get ready for the bus. Hopefully I'll have Internet in Guyuan, but there's always the chance I won't, so if you don't hear from me for two weeks, don't assume that I'm dead.

-Cooper