CHINA 3 Months In China, March-June 2008

After riding my War-Ma bike on the streets of Beijing enough to wear out the pedals and gears, I probably have more right to use the phraseology "Ich bin ein Beijinger" than President Kennedy did when he employed it in Berlin.  Despite the language problem, I feel at home here in China, like I am part Chinese in some non-genetic way.  Or perhaps being here has awakened dormant genetic patterns that have slept through the generations since ancient episodes of Asian and European gene-mixing.  I have a grandmother on my mother's side who rode a Wooly Mammoth over the Behring land bridge to America and became a Cherokee.  In my room I'm watching a China/USA basketball game and am undecided for whom to root.