Ape Rifle

I’ve been back in Hangzhou for several days, but only now have I finally sat down to write a blog entry (I hope you have been enjoying the pictures, aka lazy blogging).

I must admit that I’m feeling a bit weird. After the rush of month-long travelling comes the quiet, mundane reality of daily life. To make matters worse, my daily life now consists of mostly nothing: I’m a lame duck ex-teacher waiting for his flight home in a week.

I should be making the most of my last days here, but instead I just feel mentally exhausted. What is wrong with me: is it the oppressive humidity? Is it the daunting task of clearing out all the junk I have accumulated in the past year? Did my last trip finally do me in for good?

Even Hangzhou seems much quieter than usual; its streets less crazy, its population less visible. My ex-employer’s campus is now an largely empty shell of its former self, devoid of the usual chaos that gives it life.

My life here is over. I have no more classes, students nor work of any kind. Almost all my friends have returned home, be it to their hometown or home country. I feel like a ghost, haunting a place I don’t belong in anymore.

Who would have thought life in a country as crazy and alive as China could go out with such a whimper? For once, among 1.3 billion people, I feel strangely alone.

Damn I feel weird.

Walking the wall in Xi’an + Walking the Great Wall barefoot (damn sandals) + hiking a glacier near Pakistan + falling in a salt lake near Turpan + hiking up and down dunes in Dunhuang ( chasing my prized Malboro cowboy hat as it blew away)+ biking to the Mogao Grottoes (hello heat exhaustion) + getting on and off countless buses/trains/planes = one tired pair of legs. One month of travelling. Xi’an, Zhengzhou, Kaifeng, Shandong, Beijing, Urumqi, Hotan, Kashgar, Turpan, Dunhuang and Lanzhou. Whew.

It’s great to be back in Hangzhou, but unfortunately it’s only to say goodbye.