Last night Heather and I spent the evening entertaining children at the Halloween event in iCafe. We were told, in a round about fashion I am ever so used to now, that we would be helping with face painting, and generally amusing the little tykes. Easy peasy! When all 30ish kids were milling around the dining room, the word chaos jumped to mind but was quickly replaced with "madhouse". I loved it. There were at least 15 princesses, approximately 3-4 Snow Whites, 1-2 Cinderellas, and 1 Sleeping Beauty who was very insistent that she was absolutely not Sleeping Beauty. Showing her the picture on the button on her dress did not convince her otherwise, either. One of the kids wore only a pink sweatsuit, and a pumpkin costume over it. Pumpkin girl stole my heart. We had instantaneous bonding, and she spent a lot of time with her arms wrapped around my neck or speaking to me in perfect Chinese/English. If I was made of stone, maybe I wouldn't have melted so quickly, but I was putty around that little girl.
The kids were pretty fun, rowdy, and enjoyed getting their cheeks painted on. Sometimes inspiration struck and they were compelled to decorate their own body parts. I had to drag one little girl away from the skin crayons because of the shrinking available surfaces on which she could draw on...next option was mostly likely her classmates unfortunate enough to be near her. The stencils for the tattoos were stickers that took up most the kid's face, and sometimes their skin would kinda pull up with it as I tried to gently remove it. It was especially funn- I mean bad when the sticker's size meant one eye would be out of commission for a few seconds. However, they stood very patiently as I tried applied the tattoo, and colored it in.
We ran around after the children for a couple hours, helping them grab disgusting amounts of candy, and fixing their cheap toys we gave out earlier. I was offered various gummies, straight from the darling child's probably sparkling clean hands, and wound up with a pocketful of the sticky profferings by the end of the night.
It's November folks. I probably mention the date every time I write something new, but I can't help it! I look at my phone every night, just studying the calendar, counting down the days over and over. One morning I will wake up, check my calendar and realize I'm already home.
Next step, finding living situations for the next semester, getting a job secured and being generally anxious about the future.
How many times do you wish in the day that money wasn't important? I probably think that every 15 minutes or so. I need it, but very much dislike relying on it. I wish we could barter in the States.
Today Heather and I plan to run around Dalian on our day off, and try to get some last minute sightseeing done. Next week we'll do a few days in Stewarding...which is fancy name for cleaning dishes in a blue jumpsuit, headscarf, rainboots and trash-bag aprons. This also means I only have about 8 working days left.
I'll also probably start packing next week. Sometimes I lay awake at night rearranging the stuff in my suitcase in my mind, until I'm so excited I can't fall asleep.
I dread the trip back, the consequences of 6 months distance, and the hazy, uncertain future I'll be stepping into. Facing the next few months seems rather insurmountable, I have new challenges to overcome and just like always, I don't know how I will.
The reckless abandonment in the quest of finding friends has slowed to the pace of molasses in January, in Alaska. The fierce desire to know the people around me has dulled to a pleasant hum of familiarity. I nod hello at Bill or Zhang, in iCafe, smile broadly at my Lobby Lounge girls, grin at the easy going faces of the stewarding staff, or front office people, tease the staff during lunch, and hug my colleagues at F2 hello. I've known the faces of my colleagues now for almost half a year. These folks have seen me at my best (gold blouse, black ninja pj's or Victorian era dress) and at my utmost worst (running out of the room with tears streaming down my face, or being completely enraged about...something). I have those same faces to say hello to while clocking in, and the effortless friendliness I witness everyday with guests also graciously applied to me. I am lucky my coworkers are so supportive and seem generally interested in me. Even if all I say is, 'I'm tired', they never let that comment go without being responded to.
My roommates are endless sources of support, and I would've lost my sanity several times without the crying sessions in my living room, or the pep talks that followed. Every so often I did collapse into a pile of sobbing jelly, saying I couldn't do it anymore, that I couldn't make it one more day here. They'd picked me up, or in that case kinda scoop up the pieces and glue me back together with common sense, humor and reason. Thank goodness for that.
Also I'm thinking about writing a short book about my experience here...nitty gritty details included. It might be the worst decision ever, or maybe it'll help give me closure in a way. I've experienced more in 5 months here, than I ever could've back home. I feel like an intense movement has happened and eventually I'll be able to wrap my mind around it... until then, lets call this experience The Life Compactor. So look on the shelves in the next year or so, Ann Lucas': The Life Compactor: A Complete Account of A Chinese Internship... or something like that...titles can come later, right?
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