tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304601167717803392024-03-04T20:39:41.256-08:00Doolittle is as Doolittle doesEmily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-4753596168190454602008-08-18T21:12:00.001-07:002008-08-18T21:23:21.059-07:00Around the tennis venue<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy7mA7yshhUvgX9ZyPOmheqlKihyyEpBz0aDTt2-fnqNCax8p1mnegSXXKSRSmM9ha4L9eZaoy48LSmvSDc0V7T_zZUf2RjEcXDNIe0gwiNGl3uJhlYNw2njj4n8C2fhNGJhx_lhQ4Sv_4/s1600-h/record+pic+239.jpg"> </a><br /><br /><br />The Tennis Events are officially over; Russia swept the women's singles events, Nadal, Gonzales, and Djokovic earned their singles medals. In women's doubles, Venus and Serena captured gold. It's a strange feeling knowing that no more tennis will be played at these Olympics--volunteering at these Games has been a goal I've been working on achieving for three year, and now that goal is completed. It's exciting to have something new to look forward to, but the last few weeks have flown faster than I could have ever imagined.<br /><br /><br />Here's what the venue looks like from the inside!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy7mA7yshhUvgX9ZyPOmheqlKihyyEpBz0aDTt2-fnqNCax8p1mnegSXXKSRSmM9ha4L9eZaoy48LSmvSDc0V7T_zZUf2RjEcXDNIe0gwiNGl3uJhlYNw2njj4n8C2fhNGJhx_lhQ4Sv_4/s1600-h/record+pic+239.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy7mA7yshhUvgX9ZyPOmheqlKihyyEpBz0aDTt2-fnqNCax8p1mnegSXXKSRSmM9ha4L9eZaoy48LSmvSDc0V7T_zZUf2RjEcXDNIe0gwiNGl3uJhlYNw2njj4n8C2fhNGJhx_lhQ4Sv_4/s400/record+pic+239.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236077225679162258" border="0" /></a><br />This tennis structure greeted spectators after they passed security.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-34998156225740124722008-08-17T23:27:00.000-07:002008-08-18T20:46:08.653-07:00Venus Williams comes to Iowa!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjye1wHLElSHwtrzZxLrwf3C4QhHcpsetY6tfn6cHyCN_WDmLil8JD4C7nQn85aWJf4USYm_HzBmjtISqQXebfNjjHmtEbNZGFBMszzmoF1xXGlGKAxvEhJEAqn5oZTpQePtoShmcSB5jYH/s1600-h/record+pic+247.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjye1wHLElSHwtrzZxLrwf3C4QhHcpsetY6tfn6cHyCN_WDmLil8JD4C7nQn85aWJf4USYm_HzBmjtISqQXebfNjjHmtEbNZGFBMszzmoF1xXGlGKAxvEhJEAqn5oZTpQePtoShmcSB5jYH/s400/record+pic+247.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235743181920145794" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal">My encounters with professional tennis athletes usually occur in the mixed zone; called so because it is the first area (“zone”, if you will) in which athletes “mix” with the press after a sporting event, you can correctly assume that it is filled with reporters trying to grab a few quotes from the player of choice. It’s the classic high-stress environment that non-journalists always imagine for sports journalists: It can be an impersonal, no drooling over Rafael Nadal’s left arm or asking for an autograph atmosphere. Notebook pages flip across the metal spirals as pens race over the light blue lines. Recorders seem to jump out of pockets, journalists who didn’t get a chance to fight their way to the front of the mixed zone hand their recorder to friends from other media agencies who did wiggle to the front to hold out.<span style=""> </span>All the while, the print journalists are careful not to trip over the long wires that the broadcasters are lugging behind their equipment as they walk alongside the player on the opposite side of the white metal gate which divides media from athlete. With all the lights flooding from broadcast cameras and the occasional flashing camera, the scene is visually intimidating. However, it’s the aural aspect that is the most intense. The only sound throughout the hallway is the voice of the lucky reporter who got the athlete to stop to talk, followed by the anticipated answer. Getting the golden quote from the athlete before they wave their hand and say, “That’s it today, thanks!” <span style=""> </span>is essential. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s a short-lived hype; within one minute, the athlete is gone and the journalists have returned to the media offices to insert the fresh quotes into the article they finished before the match was even over. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">While some athletes legitimately enjoy talking to the media spew excellent quotes for a good five minutes or speak in multiple languages for multiple agencies, being in the shark frenzy that is the mixed zone has the potential to frustrate even the most dedication fan or zealous journalist. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unless they’ve been doing it for 36 years.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My friend and supervisor at the Olympic Tennis Green Center, Sandra Harwitt, has a long-running rapoire with many professional tennis players, including Serena and Venus Williams. Immediately following their press conference after they won the gold medal in women's doubles Friday, my colleagues and I were hanging out in the office, talking about how cool it would be to be on a first name basis with the Williams sisters like Sandra has been for years. My roommate and I also joked about some of the more creative and unusual questions asked of the Williams’ during the press conference. For example, one of the questions flowed, "You have a lot of fans in Morocco. Will you ever go to Morocco to see them?" we turned into, "You have a lot of fans in Iowa. Will you ever come to Iowa?" followed by laughter.<br /><br />As soon as we chuckled about Venus Williams coming to Iowa, into the office walks Sandra, wearing a large smile. Following her into our office was Venus Williams.<br /><br />Sandra introduced us to her, and we tried not to let our jaws drop. It was such a different from the crowded mixed zone—there were only a handful of people around, no cameras, no notebooks, no recording devices. There wasn’t even a divider separating us. Venus wore her hair back in a tight pony tail and was still wearing the outfit she and Serena had won in; they hadn’t received their medals yet, so she was still wearing her athlete accreditation. It was such a change from the Venus I had seen in the mixed zone who was always in a hurry. The ever-poised, yet surprisingly shy, Venus gave us a wave, told us it was nice to meet us, and apologized for not always stopping to talk to us in the mixed zone, admitting that with all the media hype, she’s been “jaded”. </p> <span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">Before Venus left, we gave her a pin from the University of Iowa (pin trading is a big deal at the Olympics). <span style=""> </span>Unfortunately, the Olympic Tennis Event is over, so Venus will no longer be wearing her accreditation with the pin-laden lanyard. But you can bet I will be looking for that round black pin with a golden dome on it on her 2012 Games lanyard. <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><br /><br /> <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br /> <!--[endif]--></span>Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-21172614139245978172008-08-17T23:14:00.000-07:002008-08-17T23:20:48.631-07:00Ambience of the Bird's Nest<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheRBVhIaC1Dm7t3E6m7nEgho8lnglBwMoyPjSYglK5sfKMvyA6DyG0-ZaOwKiyV0zXuHATRG4pF2d9ZmSu-BUiXBysE4XAZtZh2HS26CRMNqNWRgRlV_6jIeuLDt8BnFVl1JA41dctL7ad/s1600-h/record+pic+172.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheRBVhIaC1Dm7t3E6m7nEgho8lnglBwMoyPjSYglK5sfKMvyA6DyG0-ZaOwKiyV0zXuHATRG4pF2d9ZmSu-BUiXBysE4XAZtZh2HS26CRMNqNWRgRlV_6jIeuLDt8BnFVl1JA41dctL7ad/s400/record+pic+172.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235737579007627298" border="0" /></a>The moon was absolutely gorgeous! It was brighter than it's ever been, too, as if it knew 90,000 spectators would be taking photos.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGbSAFqbjnstSfo-t4LfwQmg0PGgOMZTy27Ma4vGM7Uw9KyauNjmn5I8gOGlK2yDFiZRDvfjNA_IbSzmTxYhWqjg_UtZIqT6wxglx60VSiH0_K15jVNqzDxc-JXkL7nqB0hJtDuIYcNin/s1600-h/record+pic+136.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGbSAFqbjnstSfo-t4LfwQmg0PGgOMZTy27Ma4vGM7Uw9KyauNjmn5I8gOGlK2yDFiZRDvfjNA_IbSzmTxYhWqjg_UtZIqT6wxglx60VSiH0_K15jVNqzDxc-JXkL7nqB0hJtDuIYcNin/s400/record+pic+136.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235737578240291474" border="0" /></a>These are the Fuwa, the Olympic mascots. They have potential to easily drive a person crazy, but all in all they are fun-loving, mischievous creatures that dance around Olympic venues and are beloved, and sometimes mobbed, by Chinese children. I have photos of Fuwas dancing in the volleyball venue, with volunteers standing nearby acting as body guards because dozens of children simultaneously often run toward them for hugs!<br /><br />It's hilarious when they fall over. I hope I get to try on a Fuwa suit before I have to leave... :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXoPWZ9OGa5MRT_wfsPoCK5n5MJyquIGAE8i_vHzM1cXZARDJD9n90dO8UApbI6lvMS9dt_mp0R91E_wqBwB989AFvJHL6DEcBMfoIVDXfRBddakPy681KylvLTPihqNhNnU0TCH2Rvt5/s1600-h/record+pic+173.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXoPWZ9OGa5MRT_wfsPoCK5n5MJyquIGAE8i_vHzM1cXZARDJD9n90dO8UApbI6lvMS9dt_mp0R91E_wqBwB989AFvJHL6DEcBMfoIVDXfRBddakPy681KylvLTPihqNhNnU0TCH2Rvt5/s400/record+pic+173.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235737581533958754" border="0" /></a><br />This woman was one of thousands taking advantage of the many photo opportunities by the venue at night...Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-85884701279199239362008-08-17T23:09:00.001-07:002008-08-17T23:12:44.082-07:00Olympic Record!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTRC-1YlAMZ6O5QlOoGlnSqx4dFEXT6SatRGbmIzfFOyT-vGUPRrTOoYFaJ66ePVktw8JzXEWPhpmeAyprmvOoH90ksdHzYUkXectIxVzLdsgjKgLP0atnEG4ylOCwmhD1v9QUoAGhyrC/s1600-h/record+pic+133.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTRC-1YlAMZ6O5QlOoGlnSqx4dFEXT6SatRGbmIzfFOyT-vGUPRrTOoYFaJ66ePVktw8JzXEWPhpmeAyprmvOoH90ksdHzYUkXectIxVzLdsgjKgLP0atnEG4ylOCwmhD1v9QUoAGhyrC/s400/record+pic+133.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235736278309977842" border="0" /></a>This is the NEW world record time for the men's 100 meter dash!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI9DgGdU0NqSd6dk5PapRdnWXzrSX2R-gICM9f2DOXVY9FlOx1B27Hin94xyOZFccm54hyphenhyphena7upori2ofZVTipAqEHFsWiv4wJr3Li7qolCRNHA3k9cqL_5KJ3zlA-TYRMy9uDNptv4wJLu/s1600-h/record+pic+128.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI9DgGdU0NqSd6dk5PapRdnWXzrSX2R-gICM9f2DOXVY9FlOx1B27Hin94xyOZFccm54hyphenhyphena7upori2ofZVTipAqEHFsWiv4wJr3Li7qolCRNHA3k9cqL_5KJ3zlA-TYRMy9uDNptv4wJLu/s400/record+pic+128.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235736275993834370" border="0" /></a>Set by this man, whose name is--are you ready for this?--BOLT. He's from Jamaica. He was dancing for the crowd around the track, stopping to shake hands with fans bearing Jamaican flags. His fans were so proud! <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2zgo8mPPkexO7INo9Ka76cuTTwcsm817GJjatF-Dwk46UlHjEdm50YCzumCS6pxX9hJ01oEZEdpbWk-HcVbnZP-fTWfjym_gW518xKsnKeFEXnKwWBAZgYh3Y3dSfyc-BVqv6mKoTaa5F/s1600-h/record+pic+123.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2zgo8mPPkexO7INo9Ka76cuTTwcsm817GJjatF-Dwk46UlHjEdm50YCzumCS6pxX9hJ01oEZEdpbWk-HcVbnZP-fTWfjym_gW518xKsnKeFEXnKwWBAZgYh3Y3dSfyc-BVqv6mKoTaa5F/s400/record+pic+123.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235736281285643394" border="0" /></a>We waited for 3 hours to see the last, most anticipated event, the men's 100 meter dash. It was over within 11 seconds! Immediately after the race was over, this popped up on the screen.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-14073899798433626512008-08-17T23:06:00.000-07:002008-08-17T23:08:49.955-07:00I'm gonna make off with the Olympic Torch!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWCfR8JaEYFNpy-6sVs75Q6lkGtEkzZ66111pdaSw6J6s22nJoQ8yj6Udk4v6xT4VDLFlePuFiRJxsW6463VgJxeQhlCBltcM0JpJCZeeb4BElQBvRGzmDPeJbIDAeG2G5tW4W9RrMJKK/s1600-h/record+pic+200.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWCfR8JaEYFNpy-6sVs75Q6lkGtEkzZ66111pdaSw6J6s22nJoQ8yj6Udk4v6xT4VDLFlePuFiRJxsW6463VgJxeQhlCBltcM0JpJCZeeb4BElQBvRGzmDPeJbIDAeG2G5tW4W9RrMJKK/s400/record+pic+200.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235735742599533714" border="0" /></a><br /> ...just kidding, but it looks like I could take it, doesn't it? This was taken outside of the National Stadium (aka "The Bird's Nest", for its similarity to, well, a bird's nest) after my colleagues and I watched the Jamaican athlete, Bolt, break the previous Olympic and World Records in the men's 100 meter dash. His new time was 9.6 seconds. Pictures coming soon!Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-4885811269106807182008-08-07T07:00:00.000-07:002008-08-07T07:20:20.316-07:00Last day of practiceToday, August 7, 2008, was the last day of practice at the Tennis Venue. The Opening Ceremony is tomorrow (of course) at 8:08:08 pm. Sunday, 10 August, will be the first day of tennis tournament play.<br /><br /><br />The athletes made use of their hastened time--Roger Federrer practiced twice on the courts on this last day (earlier days he only practiced once, so I saw), Nadal also twice, I believe. The Americans made their debut today--the Williams sisters played a few rounds, as did James Blake and Sam Querry, and Mike and Bob Bryan.<br /><br />I interviewed Serbian athletes Janko Tipaservic (current ITF ranking 45) and Novak Djokovic (current ITF ranking 3). I won't write what they said, but I was surprised to learn how amiable and open these world renown athletes are; Nadal is known for being uncannily humble, but many of the other athletes also have been extremely friendly, much friendlier than I imagined a competitive spirit would allow. During the last few days, the question, "How do the Olympics compare with other tennis tournaments?" arose often; in many of the answers, athletes have cited the presence of their national friends as a huge boost and a crucial differentiation to the energy and spirit of the Olympics. Instead of rushing past us, as I was afraid could potentially happen, the athletes respond politely to a few questions asked in the mixed zone (well, at least, so far--there haven't been many negative emotions from athletes yet, as no matches have been lost yet...) and have even entertained audiences.<br /><br />For example, today during practice, Djokovic practiced attacking a lob ball. After a few, however, instead of slamming the ball with a typical and impressive attack, Djokovic simply let the ball fall from high in the air and bounce quickly on the court. Immediately after the bounce (almost invisibly from a spectator's view), he caught the ball in his shorts, turned to the laughing audience, and took a deep bow.<br /><br />The playful attitude of the Olympics has definitely arrived at the tennis venue. I'm so excited that practice has finally ended--the real matches begin!<br /><br />Note: There is no picture here because taking pictures, as a volunteer journalist, in this setting, is considered unprofessional from BOCOG; however, many other volunteers who aren't held to journalist standards took pictures galore, so perhaps I can borrow one of their copies later.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-36222144249156340342008-07-30T08:46:00.000-07:002008-07-30T08:55:42.958-07:00When in China...be in an Olympic-promo commercial<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUc18PKKboqCCxz8N4EbITsSxJ0Kdy49WKlKA9CMS5oMTdtJOgV1NHCyRhPWsKFKb3P8_VmxrvBT6n3NonCpDKgJeoKJqoqPwCaTEFHmr0XNwGikjnhF2dCPfsmvJ5oPfZHwhBu2g_TwaZ/s1600-h/China+2+036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUc18PKKboqCCxz8N4EbITsSxJ0Kdy49WKlKA9CMS5oMTdtJOgV1NHCyRhPWsKFKb3P8_VmxrvBT6n3NonCpDKgJeoKJqoqPwCaTEFHmr0XNwGikjnhF2dCPfsmvJ5oPfZHwhBu2g_TwaZ/s400/China+2+036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228835290651747362" border="0" /></a>During our first week here (sorry, this post is much delayed), Anna, Beth, Shanthi, Andrew and I were in a short film, produced by BOCOG (remember this stands for Beijing Organizing Commitee of Olympic Games) and intended to promote international friendship during the Games.<br /><br />To describe this experience as a "hurry up and wait" game would be all too true. So I won't describe it all, other to say that I dreamt that night the following chant, which may or may not have been repeated for 4 hours whilst banging noise makers (or thundersticks, whatever you call 'em at your University):<br /><br />HO HO HAI! HO HO HAI! HO HO HAI!<br /><br />Go China, go. :)<br /><br />P.S. I still have not seen this commercial, although someone has recently told me they've seen parts of it on TV. Somewhere. Becoming skeptical, but the experience was definitely worth having.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-81872719240019426352008-07-21T17:00:00.000-07:002008-07-24T04:57:05.142-07:00798 Art District<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8i9cnm4wxxko7Zs4SCkoCF5tpfz8-cQhFItToK6n3TPB4wuxm4xAXKf24in4pDMRgHIBaKrgm5z3AHsiOuHixDk4OQB7VUOYO9M4aa4imirEeFUtzZ0Wu3i4ljC7pAF_IqD1fUXHBnhr/s1600-h/798+district+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8i9cnm4wxxko7Zs4SCkoCF5tpfz8-cQhFItToK6n3TPB4wuxm4xAXKf24in4pDMRgHIBaKrgm5z3AHsiOuHixDk4OQB7VUOYO9M4aa4imirEeFUtzZ0Wu3i4ljC7pAF_IqD1fUXHBnhr/s400/798+district+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226546211484544754" border="0" /></a>I liked this larger-than-life structure. I have many more/creepier photos of this and scuffed faces like it, but I didn't want to make my blog completely morbid. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX90Vv1btXi9Th47IVyji7fDmoXyF2Xd_pzi8_Ocyfd3dvl5_Hm_thP4CxzmA_I7TV4i9AuQuqjzPRmwtrld54ENcsSH2f_N9G4dp9DumkHUnfGijGWfog_oGDxqmn0fuUf8YmD5CuNGUr/s1600-h/798+district+025.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX90Vv1btXi9Th47IVyji7fDmoXyF2Xd_pzi8_Ocyfd3dvl5_Hm_thP4CxzmA_I7TV4i9AuQuqjzPRmwtrld54ENcsSH2f_N9G4dp9DumkHUnfGijGWfog_oGDxqmn0fuUf8YmD5CuNGUr/s400/798+district+025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226546217503991234" border="0" /></a>This painting was completed last year by a "femail artist of youth" whose style, "in regard to theme, flowers still dominate". I love the artist bios you can find in the galleries.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbL633Ztszed0-HaXO1AdhDV6mhmQ_9wXdo5_J42hrjODHRRHtRca6OxW_LbU6SmlfG4Vsa4S6S_z7FuBLD-xlVvlnSypUCDMPUgk8pfhvm2VUtHqGbZ83k2zBz9ibzi_vZQBv-vnVXjkF/s1600-h/798+district+041.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbL633Ztszed0-HaXO1AdhDV6mhmQ_9wXdo5_J42hrjODHRRHtRca6OxW_LbU6SmlfG4Vsa4S6S_z7FuBLD-xlVvlnSypUCDMPUgk8pfhvm2VUtHqGbZ83k2zBz9ibzi_vZQBv-vnVXjkF/s400/798+district+041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226546218156865362" border="0" /></a>According to the guidebook, the 798 District takes its name from a military weapon measurement. That might explain the many military-themed structures around the place.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuf7N_wTowvPA1PXAx1bZGP8-WP57y1_60wgFLlrHkhM9RvLeP01crZ4RglqaWTj7OFKaIHqoaqeWG_vSnscAsnyjRrLF-n4TrxfB8aP9fzeCLUw6C3dXU_gXH1tgwUwe8_OeIRKTiUjzU/s1600-h/798+district+054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuf7N_wTowvPA1PXAx1bZGP8-WP57y1_60wgFLlrHkhM9RvLeP01crZ4RglqaWTj7OFKaIHqoaqeWG_vSnscAsnyjRrLF-n4TrxfB8aP9fzeCLUw6C3dXU_gXH1tgwUwe8_OeIRKTiUjzU/s400/798+district+054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226544419202857330" border="0" /></a>The steam sounded like a jet about to take off; quite a unique ambience!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicATTHQJePvzu-gnRbqQZlDGAxz4nXRgoYHlClnhQEmaOEjXANsVYcswcWYk2MZK08dRJZIo5rrVupPtXUJb5rbQdACdoZf_Whjg0QuWtHX0s86y9ojCFfKZFEh0mUXpTXjTv4vUUWjvl/s1600-h/798+district+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicATTHQJePvzu-gnRbqQZlDGAxz4nXRgoYHlClnhQEmaOEjXANsVYcswcWYk2MZK08dRJZIo5rrVupPtXUJb5rbQdACdoZf_Whjg0QuWtHX0s86y9ojCFfKZFEh0mUXpTXjTv4vUUWjvl/s400/798+district+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226544430275282642" border="0" /></a>I call this one, "two men and a spray painted wall".<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7Xu4KAuSVJZi7EgzZwwMrI3tzXrJkgk-dsYaryaTWY0JjAwiJ7wYkMP1b3coRLsks4-oCsilo4B9qS99p6RNzOJ-kTDjh6WubzmcEdlBMBgXJYRaApfeNqP75nUSpMEqYZMInvfLE56l/s1600-h/798+district+001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7Xu4KAuSVJZi7EgzZwwMrI3tzXrJkgk-dsYaryaTWY0JjAwiJ7wYkMP1b3coRLsks4-oCsilo4B9qS99p6RNzOJ-kTDjh6WubzmcEdlBMBgXJYRaApfeNqP75nUSpMEqYZMInvfLE56l/s400/798+district+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226544441513938322" border="0" /></a>Monroe + Mao = 2gether 4ever<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MCyQOwxuun3J0J4N8wlpKV1DYOe5rIWbJEi3aBTo26BY2ur6jspPZ4P_fC9qUtWuUNxzSwbxEl6NAkEqQV8eHarafSNi7iuDLXCacIMiw7yl2ix6WIXqSVs-QtFYZ99kF-u7ljQHMVJe/s1600-h/798+district+004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MCyQOwxuun3J0J4N8wlpKV1DYOe5rIWbJEi3aBTo26BY2ur6jspPZ4P_fC9qUtWuUNxzSwbxEl6NAkEqQV8eHarafSNi7iuDLXCacIMiw7yl2ix6WIXqSVs-QtFYZ99kF-u7ljQHMVJe/s400/798+district+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226544447770000546" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BqOS_zkkjkvEtUzueJVbG3dVQQNZlb7dM4bs0bHH0CiXtA1MKEWduCWj2TPNW-DcVbc2-8FwhkmwpVwzex3_Q24ZPNvRc1mrS3RV6JcXWud4jdl8P4FWTl89mrGmfNoreb5oyQFxcUbe/s1600-h/798+district+066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BqOS_zkkjkvEtUzueJVbG3dVQQNZlb7dM4bs0bHH0CiXtA1MKEWduCWj2TPNW-DcVbc2-8FwhkmwpVwzex3_Q24ZPNvRc1mrS3RV6JcXWud4jdl8P4FWTl89mrGmfNoreb5oyQFxcUbe/s400/798+district+066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226543382423970162" border="0" /></a>This window is on the mid-level of a stairwell leading to an exhibit. I like it because, the character next to the word "zhong" (middle), looks like a smiley face.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9u1xMO2Gp8C576a71EP_RQMw7xYkTCyMzKpqoowNIAWEepnvvqSxA4nIYf29R6x1uuEUH8Nw_IWThgjtyVLHcHS4Ztwpa86ZDbGQ11SSoTvghwetwziznAIdZGjOVEGQ4Hc4i37kxUt-u/s1600-h/798+district+063.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9u1xMO2Gp8C576a71EP_RQMw7xYkTCyMzKpqoowNIAWEepnvvqSxA4nIYf29R6x1uuEUH8Nw_IWThgjtyVLHcHS4Ztwpa86ZDbGQ11SSoTvghwetwziznAIdZGjOVEGQ4Hc4i37kxUt-u/s400/798+district+063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226543386568418770" border="0" /></a>Side of a food stand.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSypYxYbC-TdLH8FYqMT-DecFu3LUQU8oKI4ge7ASj_4i4AxFAjc7fcYO9M75zgb0sVzvrbdH4OlEBnhPfE5ss26NghxeUsb7peW5Vsxk7vg2XYZbuq_JCegW5NJ3PaPsF8MPIQcJiqit/s1600-h/798+district+042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSypYxYbC-TdLH8FYqMT-DecFu3LUQU8oKI4ge7ASj_4i4AxFAjc7fcYO9M75zgb0sVzvrbdH4OlEBnhPfE5ss26NghxeUsb7peW5Vsxk7vg2XYZbuq_JCegW5NJ3PaPsF8MPIQcJiqit/s400/798+district+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226542570284906642" border="0" /></a>798.<br /><br />Today I went to the 798 Art District on the outskirts of Beijing--streets of art exhibits and galleries. My favorite was a photography studio of Tibetan peoples, but I also enjoyed a ceramics piece of a child doing a hand stand entitled, "Smile anyway".Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-3468945200846342222008-07-20T05:46:00.000-07:002008-07-20T06:01:04.849-07:00Ya Show MarketToday I got three pearl necklaces, two pairs of pearl earrings, a gold-dipped leaf necklace, and a neon pink and sparkly fish necklace. For twenty dollars. I also got a long lacy peach-colored shirt (picture awaiting) for fifteen. <br /><br />I love the Ya Show Market. <br /><br />It's a mixed zone, of sorts (if you'll pardon the shameless allusion to my volunteer position) because it's cheaply manufactured--but convincingly executed--brand name knocks offs from China meets foreign happy spenders. <br /><br />When I first heard about the Ya Show Market, I assumed it would be outside and rather hush hush; quite the contrary, it has its own mall! It's the craziest, most spectacular thing:<br /><br />Basement: Shoes, wallets and bags! Prada, Tous, Jimmy Choo, Nike, Adidas, Puma, Abercrombie, Polo, D&G, Gucci, Chloe, you name it. <br /><br />First floor: Shirts, skirts, dresses, some belts<br /><br />Second floor: Electronics,knick knacks<br /><br />Third floor: Sunglasses, pearls, rocks, "jade", glass, jewelry of all sorts, mazhong sets<br /><br /><br />And you walk around this mall and (mostly) women yell out to you to come try on their jackets or jeans, and then once you find a pair you enjoy, the haggling begins. You and the store owner (more like a cubicle manager, actually) will take turns entering prices via a calculator. <br /><br />It'll flow something like this:<br /><br />Owner: Oh, you like this one? Normally I charge this price. *Enters 2300*. <br />You: Laugh. That's ridiculous. I'd give you something like this. *Enters 50 onto calculator*<br />Owner: WHAT? You mean 50 American money?<br />You: No no no no, that's FAKE. I'd give you 50 kuai.<br />Owner: That's your joking price, Lady, give me a REAL price.<br />You: That IS a real price because that is NOT a real bag. Fifty kuai.<br />Owner: Please, need more, I lose money.<br />You: Ok, give me a better price then.<br />Owner: Ok, ok, because you are a clever lady and a special friend, I can give you this price, and this price only. *Enters 1700*<br />You: What? I thought we were friends. I can't pay that much. I'll give you THIS much, because you're a friend. *Enter 60 onto calculator* <br />Owner: You're JOKING me, Friend! No, can't do. Impossible<br />You: Okay, I'll look around at other places then. *turn to walk away*<br /><br />...you walk away, slowly, glance at the other cubicles with the EXACT same merchandise. <br /><br />Owner: Ok, ok, come back, Lady. I'll give you my last price--500, just for you.<br />You: I'm not paying more than 75. <br />Owner: Please, that price is IMPOSSIBLE!<br /><br /><br />...this will go on for 45 minutes. Until you're both cranky, both tired, and both cannot believe you're actually calling the other one friend. <br /><br />My most proud moment: Got a "jade" happy buddha down from 2300 to 75. I didn't buy it, though, because I wasn't going to pay any more than 50 for it. <br /><br />I love bargaining, but it can sure wear you out!! <br /><br /><br /><br />I also have a Prada bag. For $8.00.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-8811995326528116692008-07-19T08:45:00.000-07:002008-07-19T08:56:20.418-07:00The Basic s of Beijing (this is for you, Mom and Aunt Betty :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5Ioc4OVM7NDuqFSpiRka5u0TegGHXT8Hih04Ob1PORoNDt-DmKdD0vuAHpt4imgLH44SdnL6SHLetI7M8NUKuZfm1VVLjkngciQ_Pl3dlIQw4ceVpmn_VleZvQg8UouVT1nMbYNp0QRa/s1600-h/Squatter.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5Ioc4OVM7NDuqFSpiRka5u0TegGHXT8Hih04Ob1PORoNDt-DmKdD0vuAHpt4imgLH44SdnL6SHLetI7M8NUKuZfm1VVLjkngciQ_Pl3dlIQw4ceVpmn_VleZvQg8UouVT1nMbYNp0QRa/s400/Squatter.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224753437174053298" border="0" /></a> It has occurred to me that, while my field trips excite me, it might be nice for people back home to know what daily life is like. So this post is dedicated to the ladies in my life who like that sort of thing: my mother and aunts. :)<br /><br />First thing first: This is the first thing you will see once exiting a plane, if you're anything like me. This is called, in English, a "squatter". There are of these here than toilets, and I'm at the point where I prefer them to toilets for the following reasons:<br /><br />1. I feel it's cleaner; not to overshare, but there's less touching involved in the process. You figure it out. :)<br /><br />2. It's a heck of a lot faster<br /><br />3. It's nice to bend my knees that deeply---it's actually building my leg muscles in a simple way!<br /><br />Some other weird things about the bathrooms here, which I'll post more about later:<br /><br />1. Bring own soap, as none is usually provided<br /><br />2. Own toilet paper, which is NOT to be thrown into the toilet or squatter, but discarded in the trash bin NEXT to the bowl. Interesting.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-25927270887407922382008-07-19T07:57:00.000-07:002008-07-19T08:08:43.036-07:00Chinese ruins<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr88mRJcC7SwsDK9kuieIPRRgCoIFTwmUlKuqN8AZJIjZdAKa7ZK8OF2MvzETqDKPZSsxK-aenNzcOohXrh2f4cCxguCk8HlJIEKhFSySDeTKfOtFGr9R-3E3TtCXxnALwnN1tdzQvwvZH/s1600-h/China+3+168.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr88mRJcC7SwsDK9kuieIPRRgCoIFTwmUlKuqN8AZJIjZdAKa7ZK8OF2MvzETqDKPZSsxK-aenNzcOohXrh2f4cCxguCk8HlJIEKhFSySDeTKfOtFGr9R-3E3TtCXxnALwnN1tdzQvwvZH/s400/China+3+168.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224742120544020194" border="0" /></a>There was a giant concrete maze that people walked through to get the structure seen below. It was funny to see the confusion on peoples' faces as they realized that they STILL had to keep walking around and around and around...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4flVQAqX4cvBLeMq9PS6Tye-0hsDr7Doo7D2uK59wwO3WzVtZeeH44ceWjBZlVffYUP7b00AYEShBgsrianm4JZD8dBuf3FYMwrGqiZ45rFtLkbR86iwpTuh3AUJ6qMkA7BHFhbWTPJN/s1600-h/China+3+163.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4flVQAqX4cvBLeMq9PS6Tye-0hsDr7Doo7D2uK59wwO3WzVtZeeH44ceWjBZlVffYUP7b00AYEShBgsrianm4JZD8dBuf3FYMwrGqiZ45rFtLkbR86iwpTuh3AUJ6qMkA7BHFhbWTPJN/s400/China+3+163.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224740413643456642" border="0" /></a>Photo opp in the ruins of the old Imperial gardens--these were trampled by the French and British armies in the 1840s--1860s, during the Opium Wars. God, I love history class.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQDTSW82TouP-E27NJX6iuAXRYIY77KuoSUDBsJc26-3Ho_O7K2cMGbdRsVps5awb9SxHaAUX7MiVP9Ml61tZhB1Ey6DRprfY3jeZkTXwOvMsCNa9uKS6Ww9RhK1m4_McHKDz6rXYWmed/s1600-h/China+3+171.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQDTSW82TouP-E27NJX6iuAXRYIY77KuoSUDBsJc26-3Ho_O7K2cMGbdRsVps5awb9SxHaAUX7MiVP9Ml61tZhB1Ey6DRprfY3jeZkTXwOvMsCNa9uKS6Ww9RhK1m4_McHKDz6rXYWmed/s400/China+3+171.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224740418058251698" border="0" /></a>Me playing in the ruins.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeiWybhehvns1LGolkNaD27rcA0J35x4i8GPTNerVdzrwnAu_UiECVp6Y9pcuv3nC2QNMGz0f0Gv5hxOHVt_zuQ8idGhwFJ6Zv4dYLMQN6TnHQsHO3uYwGqthDZRXUkubauHxmA3FxZ809/s1600-h/China+3+167.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeiWybhehvns1LGolkNaD27rcA0J35x4i8GPTNerVdzrwnAu_UiECVp6Y9pcuv3nC2QNMGz0f0Gv5hxOHVt_zuQ8idGhwFJ6Zv4dYLMQN6TnHQsHO3uYwGqthDZRXUkubauHxmA3FxZ809/s400/China+3+167.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224740429101174418" border="0" /></a>Arthur, our tour guide from BOCOG, took us to the lotus exhibition of the old imperial gardens. Behind a large lily pad pond are old fragments of what used to be a magnificent collection of gardens and structures.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-56655417121383121922008-07-19T06:28:00.000-07:002008-07-19T07:13:26.060-07:00Ming tombs--oh wait, maybe just some other stuff<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sNGnK3dpC1GNFAVbQTy0IOKr1cpfkbX_EhTqiVjKa0IbjS0ZMmCVrDIeXdsEhvr1ZVwswCL0ZdQJlOnFzLxTtK7DXtfIXUoUJ8pZLFlQ2qa8MCHoE77Kgd1cMgyEVhX-fdH0QybWnO9B/s1600-h/China+3+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sNGnK3dpC1GNFAVbQTy0IOKr1cpfkbX_EhTqiVjKa0IbjS0ZMmCVrDIeXdsEhvr1ZVwswCL0ZdQJlOnFzLxTtK7DXtfIXUoUJ8pZLFlQ2qa8MCHoE77Kgd1cMgyEVhX-fdH0QybWnO9B/s400/China+3+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224727849277157426" border="0" /></a>This is a replica of the empress's tomb. People throw money at this empty, red box. I wonder who keeps it...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8GdiyUn5wj3lDxNSvuNl9hdXp7jUN77BXDdEF5sLCw4slc5x3auzGVXffI9kvyvPKedO17G6Aj4vJkVbUgGRUozad8Nl7YkE3mWENfZebH4Dyve36R7_derY7htUMBZnB_ZB4CUT_l4r/s1600-h/ming+tomb+boy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8GdiyUn5wj3lDxNSvuNl9hdXp7jUN77BXDdEF5sLCw4slc5x3auzGVXffI9kvyvPKedO17G6Aj4vJkVbUgGRUozad8Nl7YkE3mWENfZebH4Dyve36R7_derY7htUMBZnB_ZB4CUT_l4r/s400/ming+tomb+boy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224726700499876482" border="0" /></a>I love the guardian lions that decorate most of the doors. So did this little kid.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi14NjLE0k6IO4JuPBoabvZAYtNDpwoIPDgg-yD1ubYWNiYsAdsK8srjQXmV1oUfOZ55XieY2LTAJn33T2ECrgFVuObhVT__dFkbK2KLxEhHymKP4eNGQvzSUNxsGLQptmNbSPQ_hCB7oIa/s1600-h/China+3+004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi14NjLE0k6IO4JuPBoabvZAYtNDpwoIPDgg-yD1ubYWNiYsAdsK8srjQXmV1oUfOZ55XieY2LTAJn33T2ECrgFVuObhVT__dFkbK2KLxEhHymKP4eNGQvzSUNxsGLQptmNbSPQ_hCB7oIa/s400/China+3+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224725107313592258" border="0" /></a>Only during thunderstorms.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1MWBiYwNmli1f7ouFyWbucyqZnsQ-r0ZGK8Z9ZufC4zxaq-nSczpnrW9EJLOfLJpx2LCIS8VyyfAOa-_DqGlORMbcg_hlxAapsysubVWdzlP_g_xn4SKoNzkttIE8LJSMdqrELKeofOg/s1600-h/China+3+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1MWBiYwNmli1f7ouFyWbucyqZnsQ-r0ZGK8Z9ZufC4zxaq-nSczpnrW9EJLOfLJpx2LCIS8VyyfAOa-_DqGlORMbcg_hlxAapsysubVWdzlP_g_xn4SKoNzkttIE8LJSMdqrELKeofOg/s400/China+3+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224725109546494530" border="0" /></a>Please--no megaphones in the tombs. Thank you.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLwENr6PKxmSSg89f1OW_8xmvM1dikRBLFVrY2u_bidFPMrDcZtoPEt-Iwkv0zI-8YmihUNxwGgytSL7lYKlBwF8TVGoJ_ITpX6wO0FvPJj9nXD-kHnR6rIgdjCfUGeHNiTbNF7IQMhBgb/s1600-h/China+3+071.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLwENr6PKxmSSg89f1OW_8xmvM1dikRBLFVrY2u_bidFPMrDcZtoPEt-Iwkv0zI-8YmihUNxwGgytSL7lYKlBwF8TVGoJ_ITpX6wO0FvPJj9nXD-kHnR6rIgdjCfUGeHNiTbNF7IQMhBgb/s400/China+3+071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224723268842944706" border="0" /></a>This is Justin, myself, Lini and Jane, our adviser, just outside of the Ming Tombs. We were lucky it was such a clear day--if you get a chance to look at some of my photos of the Forbidden City, you'll notice that often there is a very dusty, gray haze over Beijing. It seems to be clearing up. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLTmXcCIk3CRTZ0JBlk1EsnQrzbX1YBiPjs5WRxrMbRATytuLTVyX3us66gDK6GWB4lxLSeFixXt7zte4etsA7BRfkpKAUQuH9ZOkguvgwa7lQJhHySeMVS5dqOwa5-XAOduzOhNu7Uoe3/s1600-h/China+3+074.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLTmXcCIk3CRTZ0JBlk1EsnQrzbX1YBiPjs5WRxrMbRATytuLTVyX3us66gDK6GWB4lxLSeFixXt7zte4etsA7BRfkpKAUQuH9ZOkguvgwa7lQJhHySeMVS5dqOwa5-XAOduzOhNu7Uoe3/s400/China+3+074.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224723275798902466" border="0" /></a>A view of another Ming tomb.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8FHkrCWaXKw1Ut1Q5x5slqCPPCPue4S_th7uXBlA-pAzToX9y_hHXrBaj-i44B9pL4zFEvYP97Uz4cJd7T_y0A09jQduOBWJCdpWeZe2LWH7KyxquS_0m-tQsVafSJccY87O0V4z6EI_/s1600-h/China+3+lantern.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8FHkrCWaXKw1Ut1Q5x5slqCPPCPue4S_th7uXBlA-pAzToX9y_hHXrBaj-i44B9pL4zFEvYP97Uz4cJd7T_y0A09jQduOBWJCdpWeZe2LWH7KyxquS_0m-tQsVafSJccY87O0V4z6EI_/s400/China+3+lantern.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224718157809294706" border="0" /></a>Lantern at a restaurant.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2u4PCje0iLmWG-1Gs0-JGemfp3NMwmAu-gCO4WPUZe94NPCNAwagXTEzAkFLsCDwNrKy-0WmXeNX9UZDrhXr3Q6KX4nd2XVda2bS1lciF9ILstbdbf4CjqKfYyUJghH-ZFifeemX8cOG/s1600-h/china+3+vase.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2u4PCje0iLmWG-1Gs0-JGemfp3NMwmAu-gCO4WPUZe94NPCNAwagXTEzAkFLsCDwNrKy-0WmXeNX9UZDrhXr3Q6KX4nd2XVda2bS1lciF9ILstbdbf4CjqKfYyUJghH-ZFifeemX8cOG/s400/china+3+vase.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224718171445257074" border="0" /></a>This vase was something I saw on a "how vases are made" tour provided by BOCOG. This particular vase was made in The Friendship Store, one of the first foreigner-friendly stores in Beijing. Ridiculously highly priced things...beautiful, but unaffordable.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0USZWuUEpKJT3Ndlth3Tc4p3L_Fc-pj9SIqLKa8u9gNTOTZ7_pIgTTnPJf7kI9YXqpqqAKTFkkt20_16oSYQdt621hoxddgbFkQXhlovpDuZM8MQTwWzUQ5gA3aCNm9z6xIFugCwKzP9s/s1600-h/China+3+little+girl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0USZWuUEpKJT3Ndlth3Tc4p3L_Fc-pj9SIqLKa8u9gNTOTZ7_pIgTTnPJf7kI9YXqpqqAKTFkkt20_16oSYQdt621hoxddgbFkQXhlovpDuZM8MQTwWzUQ5gA3aCNm9z6xIFugCwKzP9s/s400/China+3+little+girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224718178269881298" border="0" /></a>This girl was ADORABLE. She was a little nervous to have her picture taken, but after I asked if I could take her photo, her parents became so proud and were having her pose with her hands on her hips and stuff.<br /><br />These were taken at/around the Ming tombs. The Ming Tombs are a very fascinating place because it is the burial grounds of the last 13 Ming Emperors; only one of the tombs, that of the 4th Ming Emperor, is open to the public because it has been excavated. Unfortunately, within 6 hours after modern oxygen crept into the tomb, everything that had been mummified dissipated. So, the ancient bodies are no longer there, but you could walk through the empty tomb. I didn't take many photos; it just looked like a large concrete structure under ground. Sorry, Folks.<br /><br />The vase is from a factory-tour we went through, the lantern was a decoration outside of a restaurant.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-82337340379461223732008-07-19T05:50:00.000-07:002008-07-19T07:54:38.463-07:00Calligraphy lesson!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fSvOJhIaLVEI7uI6JTA5Rnhkxx6NFAvASwRWsjRyCpTJm_jjFg3wy1o2UIGFYWchxuUreqDDseKMt_6aby8XMgg-cxfGgI_nXk9hslrLBMvGA1gexcFifd1Z-C2Eaw0ozenA2g7hoOJ4/s1600-h/China+1+059.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fSvOJhIaLVEI7uI6JTA5Rnhkxx6NFAvASwRWsjRyCpTJm_jjFg3wy1o2UIGFYWchxuUreqDDseKMt_6aby8XMgg-cxfGgI_nXk9hslrLBMvGA1gexcFifd1Z-C2Eaw0ozenA2g7hoOJ4/s1600-h/China+1+059.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fSvOJhIaLVEI7uI6JTA5Rnhkxx6NFAvASwRWsjRyCpTJm_jjFg3wy1o2UIGFYWchxuUreqDDseKMt_6aby8XMgg-cxfGgI_nXk9hslrLBMvGA1gexcFifd1Z-C2Eaw0ozenA2g7hoOJ4/s400/China+1+059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224707397639248466" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMGFB25GUNIEeaWm3K_qD35vUIi5A3mSDJWLy56YG17lud44R4w_4bPZzHhSNop_B2giVl0maah-jJUdLwZyKdbc17O2X26RFMVADH05mwdjlB4uZ1RAukjsgzItv-2FIYw_pPtwmcgZf/s1600-h/China+1+058.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMGFB25GUNIEeaWm3K_qD35vUIi5A3mSDJWLy56YG17lud44R4w_4bPZzHhSNop_B2giVl0maah-jJUdLwZyKdbc17O2X26RFMVADH05mwdjlB4uZ1RAukjsgzItv-2FIYw_pPtwmcgZf/s400/China+1+058.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224706976815112034" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fSvOJhIaLVEI7uI6JTA5Rnhkxx6NFAvASwRWsjRyCpTJm_jjFg3wy1o2UIGFYWchxuUreqDDseKMt_6aby8XMgg-cxfGgI_nXk9hslrLBMvGA1gexcFifd1Z-C2Eaw0ozenA2g7hoOJ4/s1600-h/China+1+059.jpg">http://en.beijing2008.cn/volunteers/news/n214419251.shtml</a><br /><br /><br />is the address of a story that "Leslie", the journalist pictured doing calligraphy below, wrote about my friend David and my experiences during calligraphy class. Some of the things we say are pretty funny (and we don't remember really saying them...) and we may or may not sound like 5-year olds. Either way, I think it's pretty awesome.<br /><br />Since I'm not getting the link to work properly, I've copied/pasted it here for your convenience.<br /><br /><br />Olympic Volunteers from U.S. Learn Calligraphy<br /><p>BEIJING, June 24 (Xinhua) -- "It's just like drawing a picture," Emily Doolittle said as she was trying to write Chinese characters at a calligraphy class here on Tuesday.</p> <p>Doolittle is one of the 24 students from the University of Iowa in the United States, who started their week-long orientation course on Chinese culture, environment, economy, media and ethnic minorities at Tsinghua University as of Monday.</p> <p>"I once took a Chinese calligraphy class in my university two years ago. It was really hard to figure out how to write Chinese characters," Doolittle told Xinhua.</p> <p>Gao Yuan, teacher of the calligraphy class, started with the origin of the Chinese characters, and then went on with the discovery of oracles.</p> <p>Gao pointed out that the idea of the Olympic emblem comes from the Xiaozhuan style and the seal, which the Chinese people always use for signature.</p> <p>"I ever learned the oracles of mouth and water. It's so cool! The shapes of the characters look like what they are in reality," Doolittle said.</p> <p>Following Gao, she put down time and time again the Chinese characters of Beijing, the Olympic Games as well as the University of Iowa of the United States.</p> <p>Having known her Chinese name Du Kaili means victory plus beauty, Doolittle couldn't be more exciting. She wrote down her Chinese name, of which she also took photos.</p> <p>David McNace, who has learned Chinese for two semesters, got very proud of his Chinese name Mai Dawei that was given by his Chinese teacher in his university.</p> <p>"We used to read names backwards, so my name sounds like Weida (great in Chinese)," McNace said to Doolittle, showing his pride. "You see, my name is full of greatness."</p> <p>"I will hang it (his name) on my door when I'm back," McNace added after he finished his Chinese name on the paper.</p> <p>After taking the Chinese culture course, they will join the other 268 overseas Olympic media volunteers in the training by the Beijing Organizing Committee for the Olympic Games (BOCOG) and serve media operation during the Games.</p> <p>They will work at the Main Press Center or the International Broadcast Center or with particular sports such as tennis and wrestling.</p> <p>According to the BOCOG, some 22,000 overseas Olympic volunteers will come to China for the upcoming Games this year.</p>Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-23784610027487301172008-07-19T05:44:00.000-07:002008-07-19T05:47:17.994-07:00Vending Machine beverages: Original gravity 11 degrees percent?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HdFDHDrfYFt9HP2RtA3UeNMh8sGzoGxgUmpgPfl97DBmxY9ikNZZOR_Cc7mHaWFk_iQKNmtdj3iuohxm8BDSkmgkm_2xsRZzc4nvi34iKksArt290pWW8faZPcjUoNooj70sPjmN7Mvt/s1600-h/China+1+043.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HdFDHDrfYFt9HP2RtA3UeNMh8sGzoGxgUmpgPfl97DBmxY9ikNZZOR_Cc7mHaWFk_iQKNmtdj3iuohxm8BDSkmgkm_2xsRZzc4nvi34iKksArt290pWW8faZPcjUoNooj70sPjmN7Mvt/s400/China+1+043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224705551682975970" border="0" /></a><br />Here's a good picture to sum up our first experiences in Beijing:<br /><br />1. There is beer for 25 cents in the vending machines. No joke.<br /><br />2. The ingredients list really says, Original gravity: 11 degrees %.<br /><br /><br />Your guess is as good as mine. :)Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-32227171024446899432008-07-19T05:04:00.000-07:002008-07-19T07:16:25.495-07:00The Summer Palace<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYefhZ61-fI43msx4y4AGGer7DT5SYgLUfZ7tBBrdaiXMwvzwo9srPa1wJyr5QilVKug5zBbAKDBTRgl9Rl1rM1grOa0WOmLf7V_g98Isn_gp2Qsshu_1KajQmBO4HGFGOxV8V5XXosPBR/s1600-h/China+1+030.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYefhZ61-fI43msx4y4AGGer7DT5SYgLUfZ7tBBrdaiXMwvzwo9srPa1wJyr5QilVKug5zBbAKDBTRgl9Rl1rM1grOa0WOmLf7V_g98Isn_gp2Qsshu_1KajQmBO4HGFGOxV8V5XXosPBR/s400/China+1+030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224704885031925698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR9YHJCgBOvn4IReKVE_uuMZ_goYBNLK-uyDNF3HXZA7LNlj1S4G05BxWRsj4m01SOTIqWHkX-lN83_FwLfKACACV7wkbGf50CfzvKwk5MvsURG6nt_7Bi7RByP3dxtgkGCiQr4GuBiyLZ/s1600-h/China+1+023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; 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float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0PwU4PS5ckANI5YB2iAh1iCScSCDI4hh4Q6uiXYbHa2UZ8YLF10czCC2tO0YVXkS0eEjiiMDVcx8amSio7Xbow-oUmCV_P5VCkZeGlV9RNYeyYOg0NsbB1Zplc7wago2brwLYxSNe0_CI/s400/China+3+190.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224702159417689714" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLvC5_eXIXc63i5O9Oja7OmF7ygdiABfkT4huTKVdv1HfFny6SqDo50HhyVgkuFjgq_KgBUy9G-cWPPXfkVjCmy6SnMETAmIqj1szVP7ndl5iAZEC668h1XrPt6f_jVIyBFQyQaI2JiWo/s1600-h/China+3+173.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLvC5_eXIXc63i5O9Oja7OmF7ygdiABfkT4huTKVdv1HfFny6SqDo50HhyVgkuFjgq_KgBUy9G-cWPPXfkVjCmy6SnMETAmIqj1szVP7ndl5iAZEC668h1XrPt6f_jVIyBFQyQaI2JiWo/s400/China+3+173.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224701618542328178" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOA35RBa9NWT9E1CZRn1ZV532NoQHdmP3MnrIBsAlWCh4iYRACR9yxfOXazN9ggU7BZkK14hUiecRKxWjWRCnq3xC6hRSQxyhsub3MoaZFifDe32zjGcpoOiLKfhR_dRudkUrMaZLifmOe/s1600-h/China+1+021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOA35RBa9NWT9E1CZRn1ZV532NoQHdmP3MnrIBsAlWCh4iYRACR9yxfOXazN9ggU7BZkK14hUiecRKxWjWRCnq3xC6hRSQxyhsub3MoaZFifDe32zjGcpoOiLKfhR_dRudkUrMaZLifmOe/s400/China+1+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224700459979313458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWVC0hlBC_oOio35PUC9dci3ijTmL2YnOMNW9pgPwtn1pPzFLrc59n7vjh2orSaLPrZtc2I2UGDv6ZWpg1Iv-wEAOL51NTIm-9j75PcpD7OfN_YnrvjRnjVZhYrlgkBDw_ukfiFpppHKJ/s1600-h/China+3+189.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWVC0hlBC_oOio35PUC9dci3ijTmL2YnOMNW9pgPwtn1pPzFLrc59n7vjh2orSaLPrZtc2I2UGDv6ZWpg1Iv-wEAOL51NTIm-9j75PcpD7OfN_YnrvjRnjVZhYrlgkBDw_ukfiFpppHKJ/s400/China+3+189.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224700462180282706" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwFYd9aPD5-O1vFjxD_WrV-F9IEhu7HFRP6IFZdcckr-aVF6TH6j0MXHsVcCC-BHyhw9b4WAgQeK1OjrGENukebcMpmyOwpDL2rcqcmIJQ9WDTBIvSX6M-DKTtiTQczj9evZu7RciGJ40V/s1600-h/China+3+184.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwFYd9aPD5-O1vFjxD_WrV-F9IEhu7HFRP6IFZdcckr-aVF6TH6j0MXHsVcCC-BHyhw9b4WAgQeK1OjrGENukebcMpmyOwpDL2rcqcmIJQ9WDTBIvSX6M-DKTtiTQczj9evZu7RciGJ40V/s400/China+3+184.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224696980519679682" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNlqpOz6yzK5tPGla6uT9b8zIsfDZ9sPaxFT901tWcCVodLdbBsDXGyUEZTCXMfx5Neu5PAdew1kOgxqbS5a9CTYP8G7RlIn8lEoACJYi35BYjtXeyNEIJNylF2k9Sf8Gst3EQxTgBPuk/s1600-h/China+3+194.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNlqpOz6yzK5tPGla6uT9b8zIsfDZ9sPaxFT901tWcCVodLdbBsDXGyUEZTCXMfx5Neu5PAdew1kOgxqbS5a9CTYP8G7RlIn8lEoACJYi35BYjtXeyNEIJNylF2k9Sf8Gst3EQxTgBPuk/s400/China+3+194.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224696982712392258" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmFhWlKeL8gAKFj2ljf7_Lsuxu8QJkF5KTViYKrKmsMyuVS8_unjVl_marPkJ5e-JnFkf9W79wUxE1E3tvvq0VhpuBxy3gS_VqzyJVBBNZPRVp5X297gIeDX1UqmC6Z3Hd-PSPxf3k9ZE/s1600-h/China+3+174.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmFhWlKeL8gAKFj2ljf7_Lsuxu8QJkF5KTViYKrKmsMyuVS8_unjVl_marPkJ5e-JnFkf9W79wUxE1E3tvvq0VhpuBxy3gS_VqzyJVBBNZPRVp5X297gIeDX1UqmC6Z3Hd-PSPxf3k9ZE/s400/China+3+174.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224696987091446162" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Much to my surprise, The Summer Palace is only a couple hundred years old; the last Empress, Cixi (who is often blamed/credited, depending on viewpoint, for the fall of Imperial China), who was Puyi's grandmother. She lived during the 1800s. And that's all I remember from my China History 101 class. The Summer Palace was where Puyi and Cixi hung out when weather in Beijing was excrutiating. The architecture is gorgeous and the man-made lake is beautiful and fun for paddle boating. Today it is used as a public park, and you can see HUNDREDS of people throughout the park; paddle boating, battery boating, sitting, napping, eating snacks from a nearby vendor, playing cards, families having picnics, looking at nature (there are nature trails), power walking, tourists looking at the palace itself, whatever you want. It's a great park!Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-41433434300656978802008-07-19T05:00:00.000-07:002008-07-19T07:50:07.193-07:00Even the Chinese will vote for Obama.<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXWiDRYyr9IkH43hynMuYU9nQaU_AFewQ9QAg5ZRkXVIQLfOFKvM3Q8QVylYwifQ4n0VTf3lf_sG0s0ueIMNSg0hyphenhyphenNIoVvNtNM7IZ2XCU5tvYmPuvF_w3tmp_Aol-a7KzKTvZirzQsUSn/s1600-h/China+3+127.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXWiDRYyr9IkH43hynMuYU9nQaU_AFewQ9QAg5ZRkXVIQLfOFKvM3Q8QVylYwifQ4n0VTf3lf_sG0s0ueIMNSg0hyphenhyphenNIoVvNtNM7IZ2XCU5tvYmPuvF_w3tmp_Aol-a7KzKTvZirzQsUSn/s400/China+3+127.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224694722570297218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />This is the first/only time I've seen something Obama-like in China, but it would make sense that he's popular here. In the last few weeks, I've seen Beijing definitely transform--not just since last October, but even in the 4 weeks we've been here! Construction sites which were barely begun when we arrived now are open malls. Obama represents change, hope for the future, and I can't imagine a city which is embodying those traits more than Beijing today.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-38438463951387258502008-07-19T04:26:00.000-07:002008-07-19T04:58:28.001-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxluo6MWZLGvXDby8mfMfm6Rb_09DrB0GBAzk0E5ZPoGxn8wg-bwpcsivj8rqWTgJ08sgqidFZPArGVHyqPyNx_XwL0L5hDyZckcw-yOv9S_MaL0liEwl1ZUJBOYtarO2RaueOOrFPH3i/s1600-h/China+3+067.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxluo6MWZLGvXDby8mfMfm6Rb_09DrB0GBAzk0E5ZPoGxn8wg-bwpcsivj8rqWTgJ08sgqidFZPArGVHyqPyNx_XwL0L5hDyZckcw-yOv9S_MaL0liEwl1ZUJBOYtarO2RaueOOrFPH3i/s400/China+3+067.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224692787483267346" border="0" /></a>This is the princess's mother, who is OBSESSED with marrying off her daughter, the Emperor's sister.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj49iE-BiMaqkOR8kO_MpYt-TF54HNChyphenhyphenVFeRZH2DzvB3Rv6XKLcURHKVyxLdoGUVZ1Ei7Y9L-Epoz-SX_ckyBDkryKv6scr4HMhb6VU2lXz8s1EXpnp2vz-Op1PEsJnltdbcj4mS2jMe4E/s1600-h/China+3+126.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj49iE-BiMaqkOR8kO_MpYt-TF54HNChyphenhyphenVFeRZH2DzvB3Rv6XKLcURHKVyxLdoGUVZ1Ei7Y9L-Epoz-SX_ckyBDkryKv6scr4HMhb6VU2lXz8s1EXpnp2vz-Op1PEsJnltdbcj4mS2jMe4E/s400/China+3+126.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224692791120104178" border="0" /></a>Martial arts/fight scene between a jealous brother and the groom-to-be<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSM6KCni3PZv52Xyu_GAQHbnZ5ETbZUtvFuvdMnxZxt-ueJjYPj3rcJiHshnV1UO1H9GEtIFGbfGUr5diHjCO5BVD2yqngaqTmhPeyRQE3O9cLltZZ-uK-zIA1gWydwgmxt2FDqIfpwutr/s1600-h/China+3+065.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSM6KCni3PZv52Xyu_GAQHbnZ5ETbZUtvFuvdMnxZxt-ueJjYPj3rcJiHshnV1UO1H9GEtIFGbfGUr5diHjCO5BVD2yqngaqTmhPeyRQE3O9cLltZZ-uK-zIA1gWydwgmxt2FDqIfpwutr/s400/China+3+065.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224692794084166722" border="0" /></a>Beijing green tea. Lini is pouring.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRq-vX4MdyG1UwokDuQ0sJ1PhghFyt7aIJOdLYMtdUf_nSDxouVZbFvZzVRuwceD3WqlKuxFfPaAHcB9ORy2IzTZuBuIhDb5m3mCAQ5rJnYX5bSfWDTnoEc7-pxKYUlfphBcIfhVwL3vfb/s1600-h/China+3+119.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRq-vX4MdyG1UwokDuQ0sJ1PhghFyt7aIJOdLYMtdUf_nSDxouVZbFvZzVRuwceD3WqlKuxFfPaAHcB9ORy2IzTZuBuIhDb5m3mCAQ5rJnYX5bSfWDTnoEc7-pxKYUlfphBcIfhVwL3vfb/s400/China+3+119.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224692804271623474" border="0" /></a>I love this picture because it shows the pit as well as what's going on onstage. In this scene, the jealous Emperor is leading his army to find his sister and brother-in-law. The couple know of the Emperor's plot to kill the army general (bro in law), so they have fled during the night.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZfzEFh_iFvux2UAH7zDnY25SxeJCR0A1f35TwWX3KhmzxDuLPbh-d6MPu1sDmCv9eI_pbD4ocpdGxOimr6_GKMgGlD7UAGwookGZesaDR5E_D4OwjfxLztQmyvNBDFTViYgahQi4WHny/s1600-h/China+3+180.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 355px; height: 237px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZfzEFh_iFvux2UAH7zDnY25SxeJCR0A1f35TwWX3KhmzxDuLPbh-d6MPu1sDmCv9eI_pbD4ocpdGxOimr6_GKMgGlD7UAGwookGZesaDR5E_D4OwjfxLztQmyvNBDFTViYgahQi4WHny/s400/China+3+180.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224685849973097042" border="0" /></a>Some of our Iowa friends in front of the stage before the Beijing opera began.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCg2Av3LAgKiCYIqylKp-ZC64vyl6LUnqDTFZoUDYg8_o_BK-3CaFvpk59CkB3XtLund5pqkDijSTWv-9gi3CJDNAMj6BPQZ1kzY7EyHQs31hKr7BN0lI02ZBOAW1ax9b5KhEzlqqM8oSe/s1600-h/China+3+182.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCg2Av3LAgKiCYIqylKp-ZC64vyl6LUnqDTFZoUDYg8_o_BK-3CaFvpk59CkB3XtLund5pqkDijSTWv-9gi3CJDNAMj6BPQZ1kzY7EyHQs31hKr7BN0lI02ZBOAW1ax9b5KhEzlqqM8oSe/s400/China+3+182.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224685861093628882" border="0" /></a>Lini and I in the VIP seats :) Our tea was delicious--it's the typical Beijing tea, which means you cover the cup which a matching lid while you drink it so that you don't accidentally drink the leaves.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZIv8XNJmuYDcBSUurxatrIwS6Wp-obg_AZO8F8H5oO78EdS9Vdm4M34be2Vn_V33ZaZsYnaObTNiwk86fGr6OuMO4hZFrVpWojvxJjOUODFhKvLkNOCWBbaXddQHjG5JtJypEqDIGnjt/s1600-h/China+3+107.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZIv8XNJmuYDcBSUurxatrIwS6Wp-obg_AZO8F8H5oO78EdS9Vdm4M34be2Vn_V33ZaZsYnaObTNiwk86fGr6OuMO4hZFrVpWojvxJjOUODFhKvLkNOCWBbaXddQHjG5JtJypEqDIGnjt/s400/China+3+107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224685865076889762" border="0" /></a><br />Literally. Five minutes of "WOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo"<br />"shhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii" . interesting.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UQDJF-vW0vJwdaAHKlJheB0JXEagOhJMsoU271gX-BCn9M6zY8R-xezPdC1ZhMm14iNMRBlq05InrgAlv_5ic0isfgMdBn-eDgUpq_ljuhwiVj2YStBPnonDex-Ioh3Agx3WhWhZ_skx/s1600-h/China+3+056.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UQDJF-vW0vJwdaAHKlJheB0JXEagOhJMsoU271gX-BCn9M6zY8R-xezPdC1ZhMm14iNMRBlq05InrgAlv_5ic0isfgMdBn-eDgUpq_ljuhwiVj2YStBPnonDex-Ioh3Agx3WhWhZ_skx/s400/China+3+056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224691234368437778" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Demonstrating how to drink that tea. :)Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-43215286321191243562008-07-19T04:02:00.000-07:002008-07-19T04:11:52.217-07:00a few good quotes from the Beijing opera<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEish-NuWPzMxAXUrykOJIihRsiO3KaWJ49aREHCGLPKxCl6scutqpctOMnuywXfUpCNZNG1D4XyuwVBj0GYWoJUzKz79OE0xtu5x08nQrQSST2Qm5nkRWZT2r1NdJvYSTu4WbPGqsB7ADRP/s1600-h/China+3+111.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEish-NuWPzMxAXUrykOJIihRsiO3KaWJ49aREHCGLPKxCl6scutqpctOMnuywXfUpCNZNG1D4XyuwVBj0GYWoJUzKz79OE0xtu5x08nQrQSST2Qm5nkRWZT2r1NdJvYSTu4WbPGqsB7ADRP/s400/China+3+111.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224681277705688274" border="0" /></a><br />The translations from ancient Mandarin to modern English were pretty fabulous. Here are some cool ones that popped up on the screen next to the stage:<br /><br />1. "Princess, my love. I come here to marry you, but your brother always wants to kill me. I do hope you will care about this in the future."<br /><br /><br />2. "He is so annoying! Shut up!" (that just seems ancient Mandarin-like, don't you think?)<br /><br /><br />and then there was the princess's aria, which was the longest moment of my life. She was full of screeches, high-pitched yelps (think: angry Ferbie), some bark-like sounds that I did NOT imagine possible via a human vocal cord. All in all, I enjoyed the sound of it because it was so different. For the first three minutes. After that, I got a little irritated with the wavering noises. I could tell she was balancing on one syllable for quite a long time before finally edging onto the next syllable of her lyrics. The screen on the side of her stage translated from Mandarin to English what she was singing. During that whole time, at LEAST an exhausting, temporarily delightful, 5 minutes, the screen didn't change once. It took her all that time to sing only the following:<br /><br />"My name is (name). I am a princess."Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-71738971581866043502008-07-19T00:22:00.000-07:002008-07-19T00:24:02.816-07:00Beijing OperaBeijing Opera.<br /><br />Just to give you an idea of how culturally significant opera may be here, back when I took Chinese class, we learned how to say "Beijing opera" before we learned how to say, "I need water."<br /><br />One of the last stops of the 3-day BOCOG tour (which, by the way, was an awesome 3 days!) our tour guide, Arthur, took us to an opera about a love between an army general and an Imperial princess. And how his 5 best friends meddle, and how her brother wants to kill him. And there was a crazy wise man. And an old mother who was obsessed with marrying off her daughter. THE BEST PART, though, was that I luckily drew VIP VIP tickets! Out of 300 students, only a handful (I'd say about a dozen) of us got to sit in the balcony. We had a great view of the stage, plus we sat in some cushy seats, as opposed to wooden chairs that the rest of the suckers--I mean, students--had to sit. Heh. :)<br /><br />In my VIP seat, I sat next to my friend from Iowa, Lini Ge. We had tea and four cakes, including moon cake. Moon cake is one of my favorite Chinese treats, traditionally served around the lunar festival in autumn. It's a rather hard cake filled with sweet bean paste. It's wonderful. :)<br /><br />The second best thing about the opera: the princess's maids sounded like...are you ready for this...Ferbies. Do you remember ferbies from the late 1990s? They're little robotic dog-like creatures that kind of go, "rarrrararara" in a high pitched voice. over. And Over. And over. Again.<br /><br />The third best thing about the opera (and I'm not quite sure that this shouldn't be the number 1 best thing) was the costuming. The costumes were exquisite--bold colored (yellow, reds, blues) robes with beaded collars, 4-inch soled shoes, bright white make up, long and dark braided hair, my gosh. It was gorgeous.<br /><br />I now know why the Chinese value their opera they way they do.<br /><br />Well, sure I hope this post saves! The internet connection here really lacks something to be desired....Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-53298568269386468932008-07-19T00:03:00.000-07:002008-07-19T07:43:14.110-07:00Great Wall and the Mexican President<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFo_Qf_wq_Qj1mm1UfBbzR4PUiHvUAYIzwoeDGyG0dltBI8h46dR0Tbq0ZA3OCRUHBGTX1pC8zRQwGCyd6-n_oyMfbgN1xR1PQmoPE0xU-giDkcCzpV1XEFpNqke6g5LEr6-4x2ZPUZyRI/s1600-h/China+3+052.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFo_Qf_wq_Qj1mm1UfBbzR4PUiHvUAYIzwoeDGyG0dltBI8h46dR0Tbq0ZA3OCRUHBGTX1pC8zRQwGCyd6-n_oyMfbgN1xR1PQmoPE0xU-giDkcCzpV1XEFpNqke6g5LEr6-4x2ZPUZyRI/s400/China+3+052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224735407068347922" border="0" /></a>I found Nate and David when the group got shoulder-to-shoulder. This is me calmin' me down.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdo9lTMpOWgrlce5jW2uGDKQ5vvAEpk_QuqG44mEFuES33cdU4qzVK50y8PThjmpLVm-Grn824uUtJUBXTHOpjkFCSYu5DkLiwIGhYiIVBvfc0GV63gVhUl9ZRFa6RTS1Z6mKVjgKBzmh/s1600-h/China+3+051.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdo9lTMpOWgrlce5jW2uGDKQ5vvAEpk_QuqG44mEFuES33cdU4qzVK50y8PThjmpLVm-Grn824uUtJUBXTHOpjkFCSYu5DkLiwIGhYiIVBvfc0GV63gVhUl9ZRFa6RTS1Z6mKVjgKBzmh/s400/China+3+051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224735411450706546" border="0" /></a>Before the wall got too crowded. :) Behind me you can faintly see the "One World One Dream" sign.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8kpnuKtC7YaJVKfaG6sFmRpB4ZwsH5P78UP0QiicepV_5XxtDDxX_78o7J2yzav7EvkMDIDm4ieVC79lh2PB3ovR80wzxsU7bzqpUEsMINByBSZFhLFwykyewbajE0ZdOfxTmyslZGuw/s1600-h/China+3+045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8kpnuKtC7YaJVKfaG6sFmRpB4ZwsH5P78UP0QiicepV_5XxtDDxX_78o7J2yzav7EvkMDIDm4ieVC79lh2PB3ovR80wzxsU7bzqpUEsMINByBSZFhLFwykyewbajE0ZdOfxTmyslZGuw/s400/China+3+045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224722617951119714" border="0" /></a>Close up of peoples' names carved into the wall<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlVj2YWQBaIqd1VzQCKLzXhmJy0Pq_MVE6VSVpUhylcIh8ct6DcUF4vc9ilS1Ip5bOZWU7ydaQPFJaLuq3zNvG70zi3vF-jSZsxkJZ05Lh8Te5NR0T7O1atVw21VQUb8o_2N4n12_23GJv/s1600-h/China+3+048.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlVj2YWQBaIqd1VzQCKLzXhmJy0Pq_MVE6VSVpUhylcIh8ct6DcUF4vc9ilS1Ip5bOZWU7ydaQPFJaLuq3zNvG70zi3vF-jSZsxkJZ05Lh8Te5NR0T7O1atVw21VQUb8o_2N4n12_23GJv/s400/China+3+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224722629059582546" border="0" /></a>As you can see, there is an obscene number of other people here. It took 20 minutes for us to reach that curve of the wall in the background from where this photo was taken (above). After realizing how ridiculous it was, a small group of us decided to turn back because the crazy parasols EVERYWHERE were really crampin' our style. Once we reached the exit, however, we were forced by a red army guard to stay on the Great Wall; the presidente de Mexico was preparing to exit his section of the wall and as a security precaution, we were to stay put.<br /><br />Truth be told, I understood this but I was quite angry; no one informed me that the president of Mexico was in attendance and this would potentially cause a delay in my exit. The ONLY reason I minded was because--well, did you SEE the crazy amount of people on this wall? People were trying to leave, could not, became frustrated, began yelling, pushing--it was almost scary.<br /><br />I had to calm myself down; I did panic just a little bit in this situation because it was the closet to being lost in a crowd, with crowd mind-set, that I've ever been. Everyone learns something while studying abroad, though, and I suppose this was one of those times that I can take an opportunity to evaluate myself; I learned how to handle myself in a crowd, if it gets nuts (thankfully, this did not). All I did was stand near to a couple of friends, smiled a bit, and took photos of areas far away to concentrate on something else. :)<br /><br />During the Ambassadors Conference last spring, a speaker mentioned that if you are stuck in a crowd which is all trying to filter through the same exit in a frantic hurry, you should first get to the wall and THEN go toward the exit; crowd studies show that those people who are closet to the sides of a place (ie touching a wall) reach the exit before those who are crammed in the middle (ie touching other people, but not a wall) because they tend to not get pushed back as easily and can edge themselves forward more.<br /><br />Just so you all know--I tried it. It worked.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjpY3jfbwhstl19sQP_ZSZe_-0fx7VMeq8RVDeIUMYvVo9otSuPs1dxvh4QJQHpOv9iSB2CoC1B9N-iCm6Z0DUrlpBs_YtqkUs0hEk5QDaK6UuYMM8HQM8BhrVyIgTeYf1CzPtlMMh-LW/s1600-h/China+3+050.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjpY3jfbwhstl19sQP_ZSZe_-0fx7VMeq8RVDeIUMYvVo9otSuPs1dxvh4QJQHpOv9iSB2CoC1B9N-iCm6Z0DUrlpBs_YtqkUs0hEk5QDaK6UuYMM8HQM8BhrVyIgTeYf1CzPtlMMh-LW/s400/China+3+050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224722016242886402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2GjpaJyrvtB4tU9qLTuALTusU_6JAvPWypaQ2dqDoV2kVxJBf6KWJNF7I8DbLoKW581VQIMMRqAuCSWzUaprr0bUg3_6eNiaBaW0nI1jdcqd6m_YSPUU-vfFWkqJpKTh087gDN0Xjiyk/s1600-h/China+3+038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2GjpaJyrvtB4tU9qLTuALTusU_6JAvPWypaQ2dqDoV2kVxJBf6KWJNF7I8DbLoKW581VQIMMRqAuCSWzUaprr0bUg3_6eNiaBaW0nI1jdcqd6m_YSPUU-vfFWkqJpKTh087gDN0Xjiyk/s400/China+3+038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224722023834358578" border="0" /></a><br />Not everyone can say they were stuck on the Great Wall because the presidente de Mexico was exiting it.<br /><br />Well I can.<br /><br />:)Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-12714227131430641832008-07-11T08:10:00.001-07:002008-07-19T05:56:18.041-07:00Water Water Everywhere...(but trust me, you don't want to drink a drop of THIS)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEED37x98pkSUW0rQ7aSvNs1r5lWES93cFXXPvk-iicTWCKKDiku3vk0VcKx3VXK0ycLpQGrA7qnTq0r4P8-WVHUyvQ4ZgZXNontiIJDStniiXvpKOi3EjC3pW8OfQx5aZrGpyQRlBmoa/s1600-h/China+2+021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEED37x98pkSUW0rQ7aSvNs1r5lWES93cFXXPvk-iicTWCKKDiku3vk0VcKx3VXK0ycLpQGrA7qnTq0r4P8-WVHUyvQ4ZgZXNontiIJDStniiXvpKOi3EjC3pW8OfQx5aZrGpyQRlBmoa/s400/China+2+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224708170355701490" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6rwhqlaK4IQ_e7NZ-I-wc4HUltuIJmtysfxxbCGc9XSsLP-D8J2M82cCxW_UvZHRP2yXKwlmJBtmNqntRjhW_5cZPW1mxGo4BaCRNeX_9iuHrF9d6WXafG-QvHFI9D3lRcAqrxGt-mLR/s1600-h/China+2+026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6rwhqlaK4IQ_e7NZ-I-wc4HUltuIJmtysfxxbCGc9XSsLP-D8J2M82cCxW_UvZHRP2yXKwlmJBtmNqntRjhW_5cZPW1mxGo4BaCRNeX_9iuHrF9d6WXafG-QvHFI9D3lRcAqrxGt-mLR/s400/China+2+026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224708181545470226" border="0" /></a><br />Today BOCOG (Beijing Organizing Committee of the Olympic Games), the group for which I volunteer, took began its 3-day tour of Beijing for its 300 international student volunteers.<br /><br />Let's just say it was quite an interesting start!<br /><br />At 9 am we hopped on a bus, bound for Tsinghua Water Treatment Plant, which serves 800,000 people. Can you just do me a favor and imagine the 40,000 pounds of squishy, floating brown gunk? A treatment plant that serves an area with 800,000 people is an interesting way to start anyone's morning, indeed. We even saw watermelon seeds floating on the surface. Yummy.<br /><br /><br />Some quotes from the water plant:<br /><br />As we walked on metal grids above the initial treatment stage and looked at oxygen and bacteria bubbling to the surface...<br /><br />Nick C: Oh my god, there are actually life preservers on the railings! Crap, if I fall in that water, just let me drown.<br /><br />Justin G: Look! Watermelon seeds!<br /><br />Me: I think I'm going to get sick--seriously, can someone tell a quick story to distract me for a moment?<br /><br />Cameron: Once there was a girl who really loved to draw. But she had no fingers. So she prayed to the god of war for fingers. He sent her to this plant and she never asked for anything else again.<br /><br />Nick R: MMM, raging torrents of poop.<br /><br />Me: This kind of reminds me of the scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory...<br /><br /><br />A few of the signs were pretty good, too. We saw the "Blower Room" and the "Dosing Room", both of which seemed pretty dangerous and made obnoxious noises. We ran out of them as quickly as we curiously entered them.<br /><br /><br />Truth be told, it was a very nice tour. I've visited a water treatment plant 3 previous times, but this one was more interesting---it was built in 2004, so it was very new. The tour guides were very nice, and red army guards saluted our group as we walked by (note: definitely the first time I've seen any type of military personnel in a water treatment facility). Workers at the plant also had samples of water from each of the sanitation stages so we could see progression. I will try to upload a picture, but I'm having difficulty uploading photos here.<br /><br /><br />It was a fine tour, but I'm just curious as to why BOCOG sent us to a water treatment plant. I mean, like I said earlier, a treatment plan which sees 40,000 pounds of crap each day and holds it for 13 days isn't exactly a scintillating destination for a glamorous morning tour of a city. My initial thought is to prove that, yes, China DOES clean its water, despite the scrutiny it faces for its pollution. Perhaps I was not impressed because I've visited 3 other water treatment plants before and once you've seen one, you've seen them all. And seeing the water treatment plant doesn't mean I'm going to start drinking the tap water here; my Chinese friends don't even drink tap here.<br /><br /><br /><br />It reminded me of that old saying/poem, "water water everywhere, but not a drink".<br /><br />I was grateful for the bottles of water on the bus today. ;)Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-6491168865777286672008-07-10T03:52:00.000-07:002008-07-19T06:05:43.304-07:00Wo xihuan changcheng<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTB-IfwKnw-6-uvtx6UP4VekzGWvtIK0TcENy3-p_zhx4UHJJemtjRhD4Svi-RCFJwqhDdiba-erwO-6xx0X-Pie22ka0MbJbYVdlKLb-znyDGYDE9K_hK-evaRNoWL77jImxoKvSJRixI/s1600-h/me+and+iranian+man.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTB-IfwKnw-6-uvtx6UP4VekzGWvtIK0TcENy3-p_zhx4UHJJemtjRhD4Svi-RCFJwqhDdiba-erwO-6xx0X-Pie22ka0MbJbYVdlKLb-znyDGYDE9K_hK-evaRNoWL77jImxoKvSJRixI/s400/me+and+iranian+man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224710626046153730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVrFrNfxwQEgjNJaUNOoNv83B_1fQhhxg_04Wp6V48Y-y55f7DmAq1hyphenhyphenR6YbNaUiBxLoz2pebhgv-9-aAfm1Ntijg8TfAkpEZA4M4nsRudFp7O4A3f2KbPL6Y_rUs_XJHEji9MEthaOmP/s1600-h/great+wall+and+emily.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVrFrNfxwQEgjNJaUNOoNv83B_1fQhhxg_04Wp6V48Y-y55f7DmAq1hyphenhyphenR6YbNaUiBxLoz2pebhgv-9-aAfm1Ntijg8TfAkpEZA4M4nsRudFp7O4A3f2KbPL6Y_rUs_XJHEji9MEthaOmP/s400/great+wall+and+emily.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224709050759681058" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKLoCii9swx5GOj1jHf7a65JKpNWmImUpuNiru3NNA7LaL9xqzvatMHxfLh1COiJrJEifDtHOf5Gzb85M2C5KyW4b7RuVjfrNmBqU0FL4GBkj9il1bE1-Q1Cq0cq1ZLptiXgu9-C9WCuf/s1600-h/Spain+2+470.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKLoCii9swx5GOj1jHf7a65JKpNWmImUpuNiru3NNA7LaL9xqzvatMHxfLh1COiJrJEifDtHOf5Gzb85M2C5KyW4b7RuVjfrNmBqU0FL4GBkj9il1bE1-Q1Cq0cq1ZLptiXgu9-C9WCuf/s400/Spain+2+470.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224709054558381202" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPgYYVtzQL-1uZONj6K6w6cJc3E7lud26SbKbI5TEg4jkSvLeJYl-n9iOGAfMhteqdzsfBzpuXzrxXpnSA95lzE4Jodc5MZDumhiF10RXlfEQD8mn6GBDmQX3pENLj-eYTiLBQsF9P1Qw/s1600-h/Spain+2+472.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPgYYVtzQL-1uZONj6K6w6cJc3E7lud26SbKbI5TEg4jkSvLeJYl-n9iOGAfMhteqdzsfBzpuXzrxXpnSA95lzE4Jodc5MZDumhiF10RXlfEQD8mn6GBDmQX3pENLj-eYTiLBQsF9P1Qw/s400/Spain+2+472.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224709062498453170" border="0" /></a><br />"Wo xihuan changcheng" means, in Mandarin, "I enjoy the Great Wall". It is one of only a handful of sentences that I still remember from my Beginning Chinese I class during my sophomore year at the University of Iowa. "Wo xihuan changcheng", along with "Wo yao kaffei" (I want coffee) are my standard reponse when someone asks me, "Oh, you're going to China? Do you speak Chinese?"<br /><br />Truth be told, my "Putonghua" (Mandarin, in Mandarin) used to be noticeably better. At one point, I could actually carry a conversation. Now I can listen and understand most numbers, but ordering food is nearly fruitless and if my taxi driver gets confused, I rely on hand gestures and, in extreme circumstances, shout "Dao le!" (Stop!) And then I climb out from the backseat and just look for another taxi driver to confuse. I always pay, of course.<br /><br />Note: Xinhua News Agency reported that taxi drivers will all speak English by the Olympic Games, because English is the official language of the Games. Do they really? Let's just say this: The closest I've come to a coherent conversation with a driver was in Spanish. But more about taxis later---I digress from my main point: Wo xihuan changcheng.<br /><br />Since arriving on June 22, we've been interviewed multiple times, and it never gets boring. Every interview attracted dozens of stares, and prompts strangers to take photos with us. Beth was even handed a random, (frightened, too) child for a photo by the child's (overly) enthusiastic father. We've been interviewed and recorded in the subway stations, the Forbidden City, restaurants, and The Temple of Heaven. Whenever the cameras rolled, other tourists and locals took pictures of us, thinking we were someone famous. At one point, literally dozens of young girls in heels and baggy t-shirts ran toward our group, and flashes came from every which direction as we all made the "peace" sign. If only we had this type of response when we walked down the streets in Iowa City. <sigh>.<br /><br />But my moment, my "Wo xihuan changcheng" moment, occurred at The Temple of Heaven, where the emperor would pray for rain. The Temple is, to be honest, more impressive in the Beijing guide books than in real life--it's something everyone sees once, but rarely return. There are kiosks inside of the temple selling ice cream, Beijing knots, and kodak cameras, if that tells you much. The formerly sacred blue and red traditional structures housing gold and incense lanterns are still beautiful, still round, still surrounded by trees in a park, but very much overwhelming with tourists. To see the golden alters inside of the temple buildings, had to practically snuggle with strangers to get any sort of view.<br /><br />After my snuggle session with strangers and impatience with lines, the temple did manage to find a unique place in my mind. Behind the last round, concrete-floored temple, a small group of my colleagues and I were interviewed by, according to our study abroad adviser, "the largest news agency in southern China". I guess I can consider it part of my 15 minutes of fame. Here's what half of 1.3 billion people saw of me:<br /><br /><br />A large camera is glued to our faces as we stand in front of the tall blue and red temple. The sky is a dull gray (think: dishwater), but the gold detail on the temple must have makes up for it. Curious locals and other tourists are staring and discreetly taking a picture or two. We're used to it by now, but I still get a little irritated that strangers have 1 dimensional copies of me somewhere (seriously, what ARE you going to do with a picture of stranger, anyway?!) William, Elinathan, Sterling, Kevin, Cameron and I stand in a straight line for the camera to view us easily as Justin, our bilingual colleague, has the honor of holding the microphone and interviewing us.<br /><br />William tells the camera he likes Beijing food, Elinathan likes the Forbidden City (if I remember correctly). Justin thanks them for their response, and then shares the microphone with me.<br /><br />"Emily, what is your favorite part of Beijing?"<br /><br />I think for a moment, relying on my favorite sentence that I've rehearsed dozens of times in my head since that Chinese class sophomore year, which I stood up in front of my class and recited for extra credit, which I wrote on pieces of paper when I was bored in other classes, which has been recited for friends of friends when they hear I was China-bound, to which their faces were impressed: "Wo xihuan changcheng."<br /><br />And then I try to think of how to say, "yeah, I walked up stairs and stairs and more stairs in thinning air until I just about keeled over. It was the most intense workout I had since I quit track in 9th grade. An hour later, when I finally got up to the wall, a group of Iranian men kept taking pictures with me, all in a group and then individually with each one, which was fun at the time because they kept saying they liked my blond hair and that 'they liked Americans, and, do Americans like us?', and I said 'of course, of course' and it was all fun and friendly and I left the group feeling very pretty and laughing at the strange encounter--but once I saw a copy of the picture later, I realized why they were so fascinated by my appearance: I was so sweaty and tired and exhausted that my skin was bright pink, and I looked like one of those albino squirrels hanging up in the biology corner of MacBride Hall at the University of Iowa. Seriously, radioactive pink. I must've looked terrifying!"<br /><br />But of course, I know how to say none of that in Mandarin, and I think Justin sees that I'm struggling, that I've got no more Chinese on hand, and so he says, "Thank you, Emily" and moves on to ask Cameron how he likes the people in Beijing.<br /><br />And with that, I've decided that I'm going to improve my Chinese language skills. A lot.<br /><br />Xie xie. (Thanks for reading, Folks).</sigh>Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-17866515574693644902008-03-19T18:30:00.000-07:002008-03-19T18:44:14.658-07:00Getting stoned--Rosetta Stone, that isBonjour. Le cheval saute. Les femmes courent, et un avion est bleue. <br />Hello. The horse jumps. The girls run, and an airplane is blue.<br />I can confidently have a conversation with a French native, as long as our discussion delves no more deep than simple verbs, times of day, and colors. Oh, and I suppose we can take turns counting 1 through 10, with the glorious addition of 15, 20, and 30. :) <br />...no one better ask how to say twenty one, however!<br /><br />My good friend's friend let me borrow his French 1 and 2 discs of Rosetta Stone, the upcoming dominant method to self-learning a new language. I've wanted to learn French for quite awhile now. Eventually I'll get around to German and Italian. My ideal language situation would be this:<br /><br />English-mother tongue (check)<br />Spanish-proficient (check)<br />French-proficient (working on it)<br />German-proficient (haven't started)<br />Mandarin Chinese-basic (working on it)<br />Italian-basic (haven't started)<br /><br />Check up with me in three years and we'll double check how the French/Mandarin is progressing, and if I've started working on Italian and German. <br /><br />lugo.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-36435602932579466502008-02-22T15:54:00.000-08:002008-05-29T09:30:58.110-07:00Who says mono doesn't mean monkey?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmspBHNOjcx5WNkM2sMWHd7kVeblrbToV1r78219dNj9XtA3IIlgDr3Eu6nnYi43POlNfu4Xa219AnnYYEmoXXro7-0YiuyMBTSOCkFyOOepZiZYER4DVYyhgOVnOWDEKuHJNLIEnLaQx/s1600-h/DSC05302.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmspBHNOjcx5WNkM2sMWHd7kVeblrbToV1r78219dNj9XtA3IIlgDr3Eu6nnYi43POlNfu4Xa219AnnYYEmoXXro7-0YiuyMBTSOCkFyOOepZiZYER4DVYyhgOVnOWDEKuHJNLIEnLaQx/s320/DSC05302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169961303883332274" border="0" /></a><br />This picture is of my favorite RAs on Valentine's Day :)<br /><br />The best part about this photo is that Brent was getting over being very sick. The following day, I was diagnosed with mono. A week later, Keefe's eyes turned this weird, diabolically red shade and developed influenza. I think Ashley and Karess are the only truly healthy ones in this photo. (...for now...heh)<br /><br /><br />I tried to write that I had mono to my Spanish teacher and I couldn't remember how to say it. Turns out it's the EXACT same thing as its scientific name in English: Mononucleosis. The Spanish don't abbreviate to "mono" like we do because mono means monkey. So, this is how the email went (In Spanish, of course, translated for you)<br /><br />Hi, Pilar,<br /><br />I am sorry that I was not in class Friday. I went to the doctor's office, and my doctor told me I have monkey. No, not monkey as in animal, monkey as in the disease. I have been diagnosed with monkey. But it's not really monkey, it's a virus. I just don't know what it is in Spanish, so I will describe for you monkey in Spanish so hopefully you can figure out what I'm trying to talk about. The monkey makes me very tired and gives me a sore throat. I get about 15 hours of sleep a night with monkey, and I might need some extra time completing some homework and other assignments.<br />I have a note from my doctor, explaining monkey in English if you would like to verify this!<br /><br />Thank you,<br />Emily, the girl with the monkey on her shoulders.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-630460116771780339.post-64833665405339727062008-02-12T22:41:00.000-08:002008-02-12T22:45:32.010-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEz0gBdpxSwnJnvY9WcArlMsdmTMt3ZypyKt2cXYnHfqL3y8CSwDq0-GlX2RomehdO7NezhaPFpxK7dHCMEHyzdFypkjogmvJ1nhYFuw9Vc12lu4VkSrZm28ybM1J4ffUOBLKvvjbBn5pY/s1600-h/img043.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEz0gBdpxSwnJnvY9WcArlMsdmTMt3ZypyKt2cXYnHfqL3y8CSwDq0-GlX2RomehdO7NezhaPFpxK7dHCMEHyzdFypkjogmvJ1nhYFuw9Vc12lu4VkSrZm28ybM1J4ffUOBLKvvjbBn5pY/s320/img043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166351426820717218" border="0" /></a>This is the outside cover of my senior year of high school/freshman year @ U of Iowa journal. It was very Mardi Gras themed. The back cover has broken strands of purple, green, and gold beads mod-podged on. :)<br /><br />I made the mask by poking eye holes in a piece of white construction paper. Then I baked the paper to turn it a swirly-tea colored material. After I baked it (I had to experiment with temp/time), I lit a match to burn eyes where I had poked the eye holes earlier and around the edges.<br /><br />Then I mod-podged feathers and confetti like crazy.Emily Doolittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990856098507163549noreply@blogger.com0