Animal Kingdom

The day we arrived in Wuhan, the sound of the cicadas was absolutely deafening. If you live on the East coast, I think you know what I'm talking about. These little bugs with bulging red eyes chirp rhythmically and constantly during daylight hours. The noise has either diminished since we arrived or I've gotten used to it. But they are still around and I've come to enjoy their lulling effect as I walk around this gorgeously wooded campus.

On my first visit to my classroom, I was getting to know how all the equipment worked and opened up the large cabinet underneath the lectern. I was greeted by a large (say 2-3 inches) cockroach. I waved over the woman who opened the room for me and she reached back to the chalk boark, grabbed the eraser, crushed the cockroach, and replaced the eraser to the chalk rail. End of story (except for the part when I wiped down the back of the eraser with a Kleenex covered in hand-sanitizer).

A few weeks ago, before eating dinner at the house of the cousin of my professor friend Flora (whom I met at the University of Utah two years ago and is the main reason I'm here in China today), I was admiring the artwork on the walls and bookshelves around the living room. I came across a few large jars, the kind you might find in an old chemistry lab with waxy plastic rims that seal large glass-knobbed lids. Inside, I was told, was a concoction of "clear spirits" (essentially legal moonshine, also known here as "fire water," containing up to 60% alcohol which burns your nostrils as you inhale and causes you to involuntarily shutter as you sip it down), Chinese herbs and seeds, and 5 whole snakes--either dead or extremely intoxicated and comatose. I was told this liquid had medicinal qualities. I vowed then and there not to get sick while in China. Mission: (so far) accomplished! My only regret is I'd forgotten to bring my camera to the dinner, so there are no pictures of the snakes in a jar.

While there is a large lake and plenty of humidity (and it rained every day for the first week), I was surprised that there did not seem to be any mosquitos. They have finally arrived, however. In the early evenings--as the heat of the day finally begins to recede--we've begun to play wiffle-ball with the students (they are oblivious to baseball but LOVE basketball) and I now have a fine collection of bites. Makes me homesick for Minnesota.

One day last week, one my of mosquito bites seemed to be spreading in an odd way. There were 5 short, red trails reaching out from the bite. The bite also became a bit infected and a few small pimples formed on the end of each of the trails. Upon closer inspection, I noticed two distict dark spots next to the main bite and realized that I must have been bitten by a (mildly) venomous spider. I have no idea when it happened, and frankly I'm glad because otherwise I'd be absolutely paranoid about it happening again.

Finally, this past Saturday night, I had dinner again with professor Flora. She took me, another American teacher, and some friends to dinner at restaurant near the Agriculture University (the only one in all of China, she tells me). The food served is raised and cultivated entirely on the campus. When we sat down to dinner on the outdoor patio on one of the few cool nights we've had since arriving, the chairs and table were no taller than in a kindergarten classroom. To fit my long legs under the table, I crossed and tucked my ankles under the chair. About 10 minutes into the meal, I felt a mild tingle on my left ankle and thought "Oh, I've sat on my syatic nerve," and adjusted my leg. A few moments later, I felt an electric shock run through my shin and I yelped just a bit. The people at the table asked me what was wrong and I said that I'd felt a pain in my leg because of my position. As I began to adjust legs, the other American looked under the table. She immediately screamed out loud and jumped back, knocking over her chair and scaring the little girl next to her. The entire restaurant was now looking at us and watched as a 6-inch millipede slithered/ran at lightning speed across the floorboard from our table, under another (causing its occupants to also jump up and out of the way), and over the deck to the grassy area below. As we all calmly sat back down to our meal--my legs stretched out fully across to the other side this time and my shin tingling mildly--Flora casually mentions that I was fortunate to have been wearing thick socks.

Ah, the adventures of overseas travel. My animal encounters during a year in Mexico when I was in high school had painted a picture in my mind about what I might find in China that has not been entirely accurate. I feel fortunate and relieved not to have seen more than one cockroach and no rodents of any kind. But there's still two weeks left!