My days recently have been completely consumed: sleeping, eating, teaching, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.
In an effort to ward off the sickness that is trying to envelope my soul, I have taken to sleeping every single second that I'm not working or eating.
I don't know if it's the weather that is getting increasingly unbearable or the dust that my air conditioner/heater relentlessly projects or the pollution in Beijing finally catching up with me or my erratic and not-so-nutritionally-balanced meals, but I've officially caught my first Asian cold. Luckily, it's not bird flu.
I woke up with a headache one day, a sore throat the next, and a completely stopped up head the next. It was quite the series of symptoms. Now, my floor is completely covered with Kleenexes (yes, I bought name brand), my trash can is filled with orange peels (trying to make up for a serious lack of vitamins), and my head, ears, nose, throat, stomach, and eyes are filled with snot. It's a situation.
In an effort to meet people on my side of the city, I responded to an ad in "That's Beijing" -- a magazine intended for expats. It was a girl named Fiona who was looking for a language exchange. Perfect! I know English, I want to learn Mandarin, let's get it on! Our first meeting was this afternoon.
We met at a coffee shop, and I was a half hour late because I couldn't drag myself out of bed at 2:30 pm. We discussed how our exchange would go, and I explained that my tardiness was due to an ever-encroaching illness yet to be named. Every time I tried to think and explain my jobs, my career aspirations, my need for more tissues, she looked more and more worried.
The coffee was good. And as it turns out, she's a wonderful girl. Not only was she not trying to scam me (she actually paid for my coffee!), she helped me find a medicine shop and buy something to make me feel better.
Now I'm sipping some traditional Chinese medicine in hopes that it makes all my head trouble disappear. If it works, you better believe I'm stocking up; it was only Y14 for like a million little packets of herbs. And I'm sure it will; the Chinese have been at this living thing for a long time.
While Fiona (she calls me Li Wei, by the way; she said my English name was too hard...haha) and I were saying good bye, a Chinese man heard our conversation and started talking to me. While rolling my eyes and closely guarding my bag, I endured his ridiculous pitch about dog clothes and his brightened eyes when I said my family has three dogs. Eventually, I just didn't feel like dealing with it and walked away. I was too happy about meeting someone who really can help me learn this crazy language and live a little easier in this crazy city. I didn't want it ruined by some ridiculous Chinese business man who pronounced Louisiana "Louie Ana" and tried to tell me that it was correct.
