careful what you wish for

I know it's been a little while since my last post. Or maybe a not-so-little while. I could offer many reasons for my absence. Last week was midterms, which consisted of four tests in two days--I haven't experienced midterms so intense since I was an undergrad. And then there was the fact that we had a little taco party at our place last weekend. Ben and I spent quite a bit of time shopping, preparing, and cleaning house before our guests arrived. (I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I am no better a housekeeper in China than I ever was in the U.S.) So, there have been some things that have been keeping us semi-busy. But on the other hand, life here has become fairly routine. I have been feeling like I've settled into a pretty stardard daily schedule, and within that, there's really not so much to write about.

In fact, just a couple days ago, I was working on a post about how nothing exciting was really happening around here right now, how I was so sorry for my blogging absence, and how I wish I had something more to report. I finished a quick draft of the post, and then had to run out the door before posting it, because I was about to be late for class. I scurried out to the front walkway in front of our building to grab my bike . . . only to find that my bike had been stolen.

This is actually a pretty common occurrence around here. In fact, my friend Juana had her bike stolen from right in front of our classroom building, in broad daylight, just a week ago. It was locked--double-locked, actually--at the time. Bikes are stolen so often here, it's kind of a joke. Like, people ask you, "Has your bike been stolen yet?"

Nevertheless, when I found mine was stolen (or "lost" as the Chinese would put it) I was so frustrated. Argh! I had had the bike for no more than a week. It was a new bike, as opposed to one of the second-hand (i.e., "lost" and then re-sold) bikes that most people ride, which is probably why it was taken. I guess it was a little too new and pretty for quick fingers to resist. But I barely got a chance to enjoy it myself. Plus, now I had no form of transportation to get to a class that was going to start in 15 minutes.

Anyway, the whole experience sent me into a kind of tailspin. I had no choice but to walk to class (and get there about 30 minutes late--it's a pretty hefty walk from our place to my classroom building). As I was walking, I just kept getting more and more angry. I know it makes no sense, but by the time I arrived at my classroom building, I was mad at the entire country of China. What kind of place makes it so easy and common to steal bikes? Who are these jerks who think it's okay to steal bikes. Don't they know how late they were making me for class? How could no one have seen someone taking my bike? And why didn't someone stop these people? It was almost enough to make me hate China.

You don't need to tell me it's not logical--I am fully aware of that--but the experience has put me in a pretty bad head-space for the past couple of days. I've read that this kind of thing is all a part of the transition to an unfamiliar culture--you go through periods when a seemingly small thing (like finding your bike has been stolen in a country where everyone's bikes get stolen) will just send you into a (hopefully short-lived) downward spiral of frustration with the new place where you're living. I guess I'm a textbook example. But knowing that doesn't make me any less frustrated, or make it any easier to just pull myself out of this mode.

In the meantime, I'm really having a hard time caring about my studies. I've been spending a lot of time pining for home, and its wonderland of unstolen bikes and drive-thru restaurants. I've been doing a lot of online window-shopping for clothes that are both attractive and in my size, something that is in somewhat short-supply here. Needless to say, I'm a little homesick. But at least I now have something to write about.