My last weekend was very low-key. The weather on Saturday was glorious once again and I happily spent my morning and early afternoon crafting teaching props for my classes while listening to Bob Marley and Peter Tosh. Windows open, breeze and sunshine flowing through the office and my hair. It was great.
The next four cards demonstrate various prepositions and the specific formations that the students must make in a game that I made up. The first card is “over/under,” the second is “between,” the third is “in front of,” and the fourth is “behind.”
(I realize now as I’m looking at the “between” card that I drew the calves a bit low…)
Later that evening, I went to another yoga class and enjoyed the heck outta it. No Enya that time, just some cliché meditation music that felt just right.
Sunday morning I cleaned my room. Rachel told me that a real Chinese housewife dissolves powder laundry detergent in water and uses the solution to clean the floors. I tried it out. My room did smell nice, but it took a while for the bubbles to die down. Maybe next time I’ll use more water and less detergent.
I went to yoga again on Sunday evening (I’m loving the frequency of my classes!) and followed it up with an ice-cream cone from a freezer on the business street. I was really craving something sweet and this looked like a great idea. The wrapper was purple after all and it was only 1 Yuan. It was disgusting. The ice cream, like the wrapper was a delightful shade of lavender, which seemed appealing at first, but made me a little nauseous after tasting the thing. It reeked of butter and tasted like plastic sautéed in butter. Plus three raisins on top. I have a strong imagination, so I stuck with it and tried my damnedest to enjoy it, imagining it was indeed satisfying my craving for real ice cream (specifically Cup o’ Joe flavor from Ultimate Ice Cream in Asheville, NC). I stuck with it–through a seven minute bike ride back home on a bike that was made for a person two feet shorter than me–until the very last bite when I realized that humans just aren’t made to eat pretty plastic treats.
I threw the smushed tip of the cone into the trash in front of the school, locked up my bike, and realized that my bike rental card had slipped out of my pocket somewhere along the path back from the yoga studio. With the help of the devas, I found it within five minutes with nothing but the cheap flashlight on the end of my cell phone. It was incredible.