Weekend Wrap-up

This weekend I explored the Hutongs behind War-Ma. Hutongs are old neighborhoods, made up of adobe-like houses each connected to one another, forming a series of tiny alleyways. In most big cities much of the Hutongs have been torn down to make room for skyscrapers. Though a few have been preserved, it's quite sad. These people live on so little, were probably raised in the same tiny house that their parents grew up in, and the government can come in and post a flyer that says, "Oops, sorry! Go live somewhere else now, we're putting in a Hyatt!" 20,000 were destroyed in Beijing in 2004 alone, and these things are sometimes a few hundred years old! It's a side of the city that's a bit hidden (though touristy in parts of Beijing, natch), and it was cool to explore through there. Of course we got a few stares. One pair of women even stopped us because they thought we were lost! "Nothing's back here," they said. "Wal-Mart's that way." They gave us a funny look when we said we wanted to just look around, but smiled and nodded us past nonetheless. (Picture: Doorway with older areas of the Hutong behind it)

Saturday night my [Chinese!] friend Sean invited me to a salsa party (the dance, not the food (pssh I wish)). When we first met he mentioned that he "partner dances," and I said it was something I enjoyed but didn't do very often. I'm not amazing or anything, but I know the basics and how to follow, so I can usually fake it pretty well. So when Sean called, I happily accepted his offer. At the very least, it would be something out of the ordinary and might allow me to meet some new people.
I was a bit nervous, thinking I'd be out of my league, but it turns out I didn't have much to worry about; I was one of the few who had actually danced before. Most of the evening ended up being lessons taught by Sean (who danced competitively at school in the UK) or the host of the party, a German man who was too busy checking out Sean to let me speak auf deutch with him.
The guests were American, German, French, Irish, Japanese, and Chinese. I love that socializing always involves meeting people from like 30 different places. Pretty Cool. Oh but those kids, lordy loo they could not dance. Bless their hearts, they tried, and were all very nice, but the men might as well have had cinder blocks for feet. So awkward.
Did you know that Chinese people can not dance? With few exceptions (Sean for instance could probably swing his hips at 200 bpm) they can not find the beat at all. It's so bad that apparently the floors of some discos MOVE, FORCING people to "dance" so they don't fall over (that is something I HAVE to see, absolutely must).
While dancing at the end of the evening, I sort of step out of myself for a moment. I picture myself standing here, as far away from home as I could possibly be, practicing my salsa with 15 other people in some queeny German guy's apartment. This is so weird. I look at my dance partner, who's still trying to find "1." He only speaks Chinese. He's smelly and clammy. He's maybe 5'2" and 45 years old. And this is when I burst out laughing, because I've only just now noticed that his belt has a giant SPARKLING Playboy bunny on it. Because that's how he rolls.
The beautiful thing about China is that even when you do something lame and boring, it almost always turns into absurd and ridiculous.