Happy Moments . . .

I never thought eating a watermelon would make me so happy. This was taken in Hangzhou. I was starving, and since there was a fruit stand right beside where we were staying – we bought one. Finding a knife was fun. We ran around trying to mime cutting things. After going to a few stores we finally found one. It was one of the tastiest watermelons I have ever had – of course I was very thirsty and hungry. Can you see the joy on my face? I was also happy because I had enjoyed a very nice warm shower.

Walking around and finding crazy translations like this one make us laugh. I have seen worse though. I find myself asking how there can be so many English speaking people here, but then there are things like this. You would think someone some where would tell someone of their mistakes, but maybe the Chinese want to save face and don’t want to correct them. Who knows. All I know is that I find myself laughing a lot seeing all their crazy misspellings and weird use of words. Cafe Diary is only one of the funny ones. I will have to take more pictures like this one as I come across them.

Phil laughed when he found a Pabst Blue Ribbon in the store. He bought it to take a picture of it, and didn’t ever drink it. It is probably still sitting in the refrigerator where we stayed in Hangzhou. Who thought China would have Pabst?

And Pretty Pictures . . .

Here is a picture of West Lake in Hangzhou from atop a little mountain. Pretty isn’t it? We need to go back and spend more time there. We were so tired and hot when we were there last. It was hard to enjoy ourselves. We are going this weekend to get train tickets to Shanghai. Maybe we can see it then.

Bamboo! We went to a place called Yellow Dragon Cave. I don’t remember really seeing a cave – I just remember sweating like a pig and climbing endless stairs. Endless stairs that went on and on forever. I thought I might die. Not even my Bermex training was enough for those stairs. There was this one section completely covered in bamboo. It was very pretty and tranquil. We ran into a nice cop there and tried conversing in our broken Chinese. He ended up taking us back to this little building in the woods and giving us water – God only knows if it was boiled or not. I haven’t died yet – so I guess I am ok . . . I hope.

Well, like always, I have ZERO energy and must go. Sorry if these blogs seem lack luster. But teaching is kicking my booty. I will post more tomorrow. I have so many pictures.

I have not gone into much of our flight over here, so I guess I will take the opportunity to do that now.

The flight was about 14.5 hours long. I don’t care what anyone says. 14.5 hours is a long time to spend on a plane – too long. I was doing ok for the first 6 or so hours, but then I just started going crazy. Crazy is a word I introduced to my students this past week. The way I describe it to them is how I felt for the last long leg of our journey.

Picture someone standing silent and very still and looking very happy right in front of your face. Imagine yourself standing right in front of this person and thinking he or she appears to be the most sane person you have ever seen. Ok? Do you have a good image stuck there behind your eyes? Alright, good. KWAMABMO!!! The person now starts screaming and running around like a mad monkey, throwing his or her arms in the air and then finally puts his or her hands on your shoulder and starts shaking you. ~ Shake shake, shake shake, shake your booty. ~

That is exactly how I felt, except I also had an urge to puke on the pretty attendant that would walk by offering me random stupid things that I really didn’t need. Toward the very end I went pretty nuts and came really close to using the barf bag that I have always seen but never needed. I couldn’t even bring myself to eat my last meal. The thought of it made my tummy turn.

When I act out crazy, my student’s flip out and nearly have a heart attack – especially the girls, but I get the boys sometimes, too. I love scaring the crap out of them. It brings much joy to my life. It helps me sleep at night knowing I have forever scarred them. Insert evil laughter. Hehe.

Here are a few more pictures of our flight over. The screen on the seat in front of me really helped me through the 14.5 hours of insanity. I never fell asleep. When we go home, I am so taking some sleeping pills, damnit.

Just seeing the word Shanghai got me excited. Although, it also made this part of the trip drag, and drag, and drag. I thought after 3 hours that our plane had maybe gone 2 inches. I was probably just delirious. I probably was. All in all I was up for about 30 some hours. And we all know that a tired Gabe is not a happy Gabe. I have been nicknamed Grumpy on occasion for a reason. I think I would have been happy landing in Beijing at one point and living there. Anything just to off that damn plane.

After sitting in the airport for 30 minutes waiting for more teachers to arrive we got on bus that took us to a bus station where we got on another bus that took us Hangzhou. I remember at least 3 things vividly. 1 – I wanted to die because I felt like crap. 2 – I thought I was going to die because we had the craziest bus driver in the entire world. It was like we were in a game of Crazy Taxi, but worse. 3 – Are we there, YET?! I didn’t think we would ever get to Hangzhou. It was the longest 70 KM I had ever driven.

We stayed at a place called the Babel Language Center for a few days. Besides the beds being harder then the floor (no I am not lying – it truly was like sleeping on the floor) it wasn’t all that bad. After getting some sleep, though, and some food and water, I was much happier. The picture to the left shows the excitement of my first day in China. The heat of China soon came, though, and wiped that happy smile off my face. As you can see from the picture below, the heat did not make me happy. I should have paid more attention to this day, though. It was one of the last days that I saw a blue sky. I miss my blue skies.

These pictures were taken at West Lake, as was the one taken of me above. West Lake was beautiful. Beautiful and hot. I need to go back when it is cooler. I would enjoy it more that way.

West Lake was covered in Lotus flowers in bloom.

Here are some Chinese tourists enjoying West Lake, the view, and the heat that could of fried an egg on the pavement. I would pay someone to send me a piece of a South Carolina sky or any western sky for that matter. I didn’t know how important a blue sky was until I didn’t have one anymore. I guess that is how things work.

I stood next to my brother’s window and held the lens of my camera in between the slats of the blinds and waited. It wasn’t long until a female hummingbird flew down. My camouflage didn’t seem to work all that well, though, because she noticed me almost immediately and buzzed off in disgust. But I waited some more. It wasn’t long until either A) she came back or B) another female decided she was thirsty. Either way her action was the same as the first. She buzzed off. I was determined to get a picture of one eating, so I waited a little longer.

A good while later a male decided to come down and visit the feeder. He saw that I was there and was curious as to my reason for standing there but he didn’t seem to care all that much. He ate while hovering for a second or two and then decided to land. I am glad that he did, or I would have never been able to get the quality picture that I did. If you look, you can see that there are no little perches on the feeder. The hummingbird is clasping his tiny feet over the edge. And before I knew it, he too buzzed off. I must have taken 10 pictures of him sitting there, but only two turned out good enough for blog material. I guess I might have to buy a better camera for close ups like this one.

I have actually had the opportunity to feed hummingbirds by hand. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why I didn’t take a picture of them when I had the chance. But, anyways, when I volunteered at Carolina Wildlife Care last summer, people would sometimes bring in hurt or young hummingbirds along with all kinds of wildlife. . . ie squirrels, opossums, all kinds of birds, snakes, turtles and all sorts of other types of wild animals you can find in South Carolina. You don’t realize how small hummingbirds are until you hold one. They are probably my favorite bird. Although, Gnatcatchers are pretty cool too, but they don’t know how to fly backwards. Heh.

If I ever had any doubts at all about reincarnation, the picture of the Muscovy duck to your right has pushed them all aside. With a single glance, you may just have to agree with me. For those of you unaware of the resemblance, the Muscovy duck looks eerily like the villain from the movie Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. Yes, I am sure you can see it now. Before you stands Darth Maul, the Duck.

I’ve heard it a thousand times, and I am sure some of you are thinking the same thing right now. Muscovy ducks must be the ugliest of the duck species. It is arguably the truest statement that I have ever heard. So how did these creatures come about? That’s a very good question because I can’t think why God would make these birds so scary looking. And if you think they look weird, you should hear them quack/hiss. That sound is enough to make the hairs on your back stand up. If I were to come up with a theory though, it would sound something like this . . .One night a drunk Turkey and a Goose under the influence of an illegal drug got their groove on. And the rest is history.

For those of you still scratching your heads about the resemblance between this poor creature and the villain Darth Maul – let me show you a picture.

It is a toss up. I am not sure which one scares me more.

A lot of people say that if they could be a bird, they would be a Hawk, an Eagle, or maybe even an Owl, but if I could choose, I would be a Hummingbird. They are a very interesting species. Very beautiful and delicate. I just wish it was easier to get a picture of them, but because they are very skittish and faster than a speeding bullet, they make it rather hard. If you have ever seen one, I am sure you know what I mean.

So, that leaves me settling with pictures like the one you see to your right. And I guess until I get one super awesome hi-tech camera or figure out how to rig mine in a place where they can’t see it – pictures like that one will have to do.

They are very curious little birds. When I stand by the window sometimes, one will buzz down to check me out, and then buzz away. They make me laugh when they fight over a feeder that could easily feed a legion of Hummingbirds and remind me of cats when they do. They always seem to hate one another, but there seems to never be a shortage of a new generation. Thinking about it, I guess humans are no different – we just happen to rule the world.

What makes a weed a weed and a flower a flower?

I thought that question as I walked through a barren field today. The ground was dry and cracked even though it had rained more in the previous days than it had in the last six months. The West’s ground always looks that way. It’s always thirsty. Always wanting more.

This field was barren in the sense of what humans think barren. There was no edible fruit. No plants that you would like to have in your backyard. There was plenty of cacti defending their plots of life with their menacing thorns. And there were ants. Bigger ants than most people on the East coast will probably ever see. Ants with pinchers that look like fangs of death. I imagine a colony of those ants could cart away a small dog or child.

And there were also . . . I am still debating what to call it. They are flowers to me, but the rest of Earth’s population would most likely call them weeds. Their purpose is the same as any blossom. Bees do not discriminate. They get pollinated regardless. But we pluck them and kill them. Is it because they are small or because they offended someone important somewhere? Or is there another story just as crazy that I have not heard? I do not know, but they are still pretty to me. And that is why I take their pictures. Because they deserve their recognition. God made them, too.

One of the things I will reminisce about no matter where I am, will be the western sky as the sun sets. Some people don’t understand how the sky changes depending on where you are. And you can’t truly comprehend it unless you’ve seen its radiance and glory.

The picture that I have provided was taken by my Father. The picture is pretty, but no picture could paint how beautiful it was when it existed for those short minutes in the New Mexico sky. It looks as if the sky itself caught aflame. Maybe it did. Maybe that is why it looked so beautiful that day.

Of all the places I thought I would meet the Holy One of Sector B, I would have never guessed it would have been on a secluded park bench in the middle of a swamp, but I did.

I’ll give you the rundown, but you’ll more than likely never believe me. No one ever believes someone who has met or seen the Holy One of Sector B, because it doesn’t just happen everyday, you know. He doesn’t just bless everyone with his presence. He just visits the crazy people who are sane enough to tell the people who will believe only that the person telling them is certifiably insane. At least, that is what he told me . . .

So, there I was, out looking for strange and unusual creatures with an itch to talk. For hours it only seemed the mosquitoes had anything to say. All I could get out of them was some some annoying “buzz buzz buzz”, which I could only make out as profanity against human kind. I’ll spare you their insults for another day. I’ll just say it had a lot to do with a product called Off and lots of hand slapping. I would have laughed at them, but I didn’t want to get eaten alive. And they would have. Oh, they would.

As the sun started to drift further back to Earth, I took a seat on a nice wooden bench, afraid that my day in the swamp had been wasted. I thought it might be a good time to head back because my beloved baseball team would be coming on shortly. But then I thought about it and said to myself, “They are 12.5 games back. It would take a miracle for them to win even the wildcard. The Holy One of Sector B(Baseball) would seriously have to pull some strings. But since that isn’t going to happen, there isn’t any reason to rush home.”

As my synapses finished shooting that thought around my head, there was this wooph sound behind me. It sounded like a big squirrel had fallen from a tree branch as he jumped from one to another. You know that sound, I’m sure. It’s a funny sound. But since I hadn’t seen a squirrel all the live long day, I didn’t think it was a squirrel that had landed behind me. Curious as to what it was, I turned my head slowly to see.

Coming from the bushes, and brushing off some muck, leaves, and the remains of a tree frog on his right sleeve, the Holy One of Sector B came walking toward me.

“Damn, you killed the only living creature that would have talked to me within a 3.4 mile radius. Thanks.”

The Holy One of Sector B looked down and plucked the remains of the tree frog off his right sleeve and held it up before his spectacles and said, “I was aiming for the bench, but a mosquito flew in my eye and . . .”

“I totally understand,” I said, totally interrupting him.

“What? You fly too?”

“No. I rode on a motorcycle without a helmet once. I cleaned out mosquito guts from my teeth for a whole week.”

“Ick.”

“Yeah, that is what I kept saying.”

There was silence for a bit. I was trying to get the mosquito thought out of my mind, while the Holy One of Sector B tried to make himself look more Holy. After getting most of the swamp off his clean white uniform, he came and sat beside me.

“So, yeah, you’re right about one thing. Your team is most definitely going to need a miracle if they hope to see any kind of post season.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so. But, I’ve got some good news.”

“Really? Did you save 15% on you car insurance today?”

The Holy One of Sector B looked at me really annoyed. “That was really lame.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. . . but you really have good news?”

“Yes, Maniac, I do.” He paused for a moment, then said very seriously, “I deal in miracles.”

“Like the Gunslinger delt in lead?”

“Your testing my patience, Maniac. Do you wish to hear my Miracle Proposal?”

“You sure know how to make a bride blush, Holy One of Sector B.”

“MANIAC!!!!”

Ok. Ok. Ok. I’ll be good. It must be this swamp heat getting to me. Either that or I am in the early stages of Malaria.”

When I got the stare of death and total destruction, I knew it was time to shut up.

“Here is the deal, Maniac. I was on my way to see me some goat haters up north about a miracle that they wanted, but when I heard you mumbling to yourself about how your faith in your team was going kapoot, I decided that the goat haters had hated this long – they could hate a little longer.”

” . . .”

“What, nothing to say?”

“Decided to listen.”

“Impressive. Seems your type can learn.”

“Hey!!”

I spoke too soon, it seems. But getting down to business, Maniac. Here is the deal. Your team needs some luck, a miracle. Well, I will give them that. In a form of a cake.”

“A cake?”

“Ask questions later. Listen, Maniac, or I’ll give the cake to your other favorite team. I believe the wear pin stripes.” And I didn’t mumble another word until the Holy One of Sector B left. “The cake will give them courage, endurance, faith in themselves, and most likely the shits, but they’ll get better, at least their percentage of winnings that is. And hopefully, with any luck, I put the ingredients in right, and they’ll make it to the playoffs, no problem. But don’t be asking for a World Series now. I don’t bake cakes that big.” He swatted at a mosquito that was sucking his Holy blood, and I could of sworn I heard about a billion angry “buzzs”, but I kept my mouth shut for fear of screwing up the entire rest of the season.

He said a few more things to me. Nothing all that important, all except for some pretty cool trades that were going to take place at the last possible second and how he had made some pretty crazy miracles in the ninth inning and some other crazy situations for some other teams. I had to bite my tongue pretty hard a few times there.

And that was how it happened. Now I just sit and wait and hope the right people eat that cake. And that Mr. High and Holy got all the ingredients right and that they were measured correctly.

But as you all know I could never let an interview go without a few pictures. The latter is my favorite. For obvious reasons.

And in closing, all I have to say is, ” GO BRAVES!”

You won’t find Berry Berry Land on any map. At least I haven’t. And no one that you talk to will be able to point you in the right direction. At least no one I talked to did. But it does exist. Yeppers. And I know because I have taken pictures of it. The rarest pictures indeed. How did I find it you ask? And how do you get there? Which of the cardinal directions do you take?? Those are the same questions I keep asking myself. And the answers? I simply just cannot remember them. Why?? Why, Maniac can you not remember?!? I blame it on the Berry Wine that I could not stop drinking. It was just that damn good.

But the good news is that my trip was not in vain. I do have pictures to share that prove that I indeed was there. Even now, as I look at these pictures, I think that it might be possible that there is a lingering bit of berries on my taste buds. Or it could be that I am merely insane. But until I have proof . . . that Berry Berry Land was nothing but a sick joke my drunk inner child played on me – I will continue to believe that the beautiful land of Berry Berry Land exists!! I do believe in Berries. I do!! I do!!

The one thing in life’s instruction booklet that you simply will not find, nor learn, is the forever crucial customs of the Flower Pot Gnomes.

The Flower Pot Gnomes, as you can safely assume, live in flower pots.

One thing that you may not safely assume is that they are all heavily addicted to Sunflower tobacco. Sunflower tobacco you ask? That is what I said when they offered me a pipe full of it.

I came upon them quite unexpectedly, like most of my strange encounters. I was leaving a friends house when I decided to take a look at some flowers blooming by the front door. They were purple and pretty, and I couldn’t deny them. Well, when I bent down to smell the flowers, my nostrils were not engulfed by the sweetness of, well, flowers, but that of what I swore was tobacco. I took another whiff just to make sure, and by golly, that it exactly what it was!! Strange flowers, I thought. I had never come across pretty purple flowers that smelled of tobacco before – and I have smelled lots of pretty purple flowers.

One thing I knew for certain – something must surely be amiss.

And that is when I noticed perfect little rings of smoke rising toward the blue skies coming from beneath a purple petal.

Yes, something most definitely was amiss.

I peered a little closer at the purple flower and brushed it aside. Low and behold, before my very eyes was a gnome sitting atop a tiny mushroom smoking away on a pipe.

“Well, hello there!” I exclaimed. “And who might you be?”

Thankfully, for your sakes, I took one very informative class at the University of Hell on Gnomish. Thankfully.

“Aye!” The Gnome squealed. “Oh, Maniac Gone Awry, it’s just you.”

“You were expecting someone else?”

“Oh, no, I just thought you might stop by sooner. You’ve interviewed every other interesting creature this side of the Mississippi.”

“I’m sorry, I took a sabbatical of sorts.”

“An extended vacation you mean, its been months, Maniac. Are you feeling better?”

“I will be in 15 days.”

“15 days? What happens in 15 days?”

“I quit my day job, and then can go about interviewing and finding interesting creatures like yourself. The world really needs more literature on people like you.”

“Literature? That is a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“Ok, how about . . .”

“I think your audience will only truly buy this truth as fiction.”

“Fiction!!?? But it’s TRUE!!

“True or not, the people of this Earth are not ready for such ideas.”

“I know, I know. It’s sad. What is a Maniac to do?”

“Do what maniac’s do best Maniac Gone Awry – adventure and tell your tales regardless of the simple minds who will never understand.”

“You are one smart Gnome.”

“I like to think that I am.”

“Well, is there anything you want to say, so that I may relay it to my people?”

There was silence for a while as the Gnome smoked on his pipe and blew smoke rings into the air. He rubbed his beard for a bit and then spoke.

He said, “Well, Maniac, I guess you could report on our love of Sunflower Tobacco.”

“Sunflower Tobacco? I never heard of such thing.”

“I don’t imagine that you have. It is a Gnomish thing. We are very much addicted to it. Would you like to try some,” the Gnome said, raising the black pipe to me.

“Sure,” I replied and took a puff.

It was absolutely wonderful and satisfying. And I would be lying if I didn’t say at that moment I felt as if I could be completely content sitting in a flower pot, smoking Sunflower Tobacco for the rest of my natural life. But then, of course, I wasn’t a Gnome, and I would never fit in flower pot.

“Good, huh?” The Gnome asked.

“Very good.”

“Relaxing, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

“Would you like to come inside and meet the missus?” The Gnome stopped after saying this and then thought better of it. “Well, how about I tell her to come out and meet you.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “But you’ll have to let me take a picture of you two.”

“No problem,” he laughed. No problem at all.”

In a little while, Mr. Gnome’s wife came out from behind a purple flower and said hello. She was the most pleasant Gnome I had ever met. We sat there a while, taking turns puffing on the black pipe and discussed world peace. And then they said something about having to leave and said their goodbyes. But first they struck a pose for me. I thought it turned out to be a very nice picture.

I had a very nice visit, and was glad to have met them.  I tooI had to go, for there were hundreds of creatures that wished to have their say in an interview of their own. And so off I went into the world that only a Maniac could appreciate.