Panda Plunge

We Plunged. It happened. A tradition has been born.

Last weekend I ventured down to Zhejiang Province (Shanghai's neighbor) by myself ( yes, I believe that means I've exited the puberty stage of my international living. I'm still a 3 year-old at heart, but at least I can survive!) to meet some FoC friends for the first annual Tent Sleeping Festival. Even though we only slept in a tent one night, it was a beautiful thing.

As I rode the 13 hour train from Beijing to Shanghai in my comfy seat, I couldn't help but marvel at those who couldn't afford the seat or just were too late at buying tickets - they stood for 13 hours! No complaining, just standing. I guess that's what happens when you live in a country of 1.3 billion neighbors you learn to deal with the discomfort of standing for 13 hours because that's what you do. I don't think I'll ever whine, "Are we there yet?!?" ever again...

So I arrived in Shanghai in the morning after sleeping for maybe 2ish hours. But that was alright, because I saw the Chinese countryside awake with the sun. Spring is here and I liked seeing the farmers walking out to their thatched barns with buckets swinging in both calloused hands. Anyway, I got to Shanghai and climbed on the subway and scooted to the other train station so I could hop on another train to the small town of Wenling, the location for our tent-a-palooza. Well, I got in line to buy a ticket only to hear the cold-sweat-inducing phrase, "Mei you." = "Don't have." Well as I'm sweating there like an awkward gringo a man named who looked like a Chinese version of Joe Torre named Martin rescues me and tells me in decent English that I can take a bus. When he says, "Follow me." I didn't argue. Martin was the best birthday present I could ask for (oh yeah, now I'm 23 years old. I'm still in those years where I'm comfortable being my age - not trying to be older or younger - ah, the golden twenties). Martin showed me the bus station and the rest is history.

The first night we camped in the hills around Wenling, enjoyed the silence and fresh air, jammed out on guitar to everthing from "In Christ Alone" to "All the Small Things." It was so refreshing and beautiful to be with my friends sipping watery beer and laughing till someone commented, "Why is it getting lighter?" "I think that's the sun..."

The next day we migrated to Shitan - a little fishing village on the East China Sea. Shitan is like Ireland meets China - stone cottages overlooking a brown sea. Everyone stared as the posse of gringos rolled into town. My friend Dan said his friends had a cabin we could stay in, so we all expected a ramshackle shack with 3 bunk beds and thick with mildew. Well, when we climbed the steps to a stone chateau we all started whooping like Apache warriors who just learned that Burger King was coming to town.

The fateful Panda Plunge took place the next morning. Nate, Hannah, Tony and me were the only ones insane enough to crawl (the stones were really sharp) into the angry, filthy, and frigid water. But when we came out, we felt like the Champions of the Orient.

For more pictures click on Micah's Online Album.

Peace from Him whose love knows no East or West,
- m -