1 Wedding. 94,273 Pictures.

I can't do justice in a blog for the experience of attending a wedding in mainland China.
I made the trip to Shanwei, China, with 4 people I didn't know. Shanwei is a 3 hour bus ride from Shenzhen, the Chinese city bordering HK. I labeled this map myself:

First thing of note I saw was in Shenzhen; an ad featuring a lookalike of my dad:
With my propensity for requiring hospitals in China, I was happy to see there was one in Shanwei:

As long as I don't have a nose problem, all will be well.

We arrived in Shanwei, but were apparently still a long way from our destination, so we stuffed ourselves in 2 tuk-tuks to complete the journey. my POV:
We arrived at someone's village house. Windows and doors are perpetually open. People and chickens move about so freely that I never knew who lived where, who was married to whom, and which kids went with which adults. They gave us a nice lunch:
and they had nunchucks:

I asked why they had nunchucks. Answer: Chinese Kung Fu. Duh.
Then I asked where my friend Vincent the groom was. Answer: "He is making himself handsome." As you do. We had a few hours before the wedding festivities, so some people took me around the village:






Most people in the village had never seen a white person before, so I unintentionally caused what might be called a "stir." Old women were especially not shy about grabbing my arms, kneading them like bread and admiringly commenting on my pale skin. I tried to say that in the US, most people don't think being pale is cool, but it was completely lost. Most things I tried to say were completely lost. Shanwei is a Mandarin-speaking village. Very little Cantonese and definitely no English. At all. I was confused about 97% of my 2 days there. Kids showed interest as well. One kid said "thank you very much" to me--several times--despite the fact that I had done nothing to prompt thankfulness.


The bride and groom surprisingly appeared at the village house. (when you can't understand what anyone is saying, everything is a surprise). This was round one of photographs. The groom also gave me an invitation to the wedding. The calligrapher was unaccustomed to writing Roman script, so I was "Camber Carptern": They still let me in--and I'm keeping that invitation forever.
Off to the ceremony site. Kids came running to check out our decked-out rides:

When we arrived, I thought I would go inside to sit and wait, but surprise--I was given a red ribbon. I thought my brownies had won 2nd place at the county fair. Not so. I was on the staff. Not the serving staff (though the thought appealed to me that I might only serve the fish eyes rather than eat them), but the greeting staff. After all guests were properly greeted and seated, they set off a tower of pyrotechnics in a field across the street. The greeters had been given a device to activate upon the announcement of the entrance of the bride and groom. I thought it was a party popper, but it was in fact a sort of firecracker, dispensing sparks, smoke, and more glitter than a Mariah Carey concert. Surprise.

The ceremony nearly ended before I knew it happened because the officiate was an unlikely candidate and I of course had no idea what she was saying:
She had a shiny dress and a used-car salesman voice. She doubled as vocalist during the meal. The ceremony: The bride magically changed her costume: She did this before the couple went around to drink with each table. When everyone lifted a glass of what looked like Jasmine tea, I did the same. It was not Jasmine tea. Is there such a thing as 100 proof alcohol? I forgot how to blink and couldn't speak for about 3 minutes, but no one noticed because all I could say in Mandarin was "Hello," "Thank you" and "I am an American." Those things had all been previously established.

I got the bridal bouquet! Typically, I stand aloof when the bride tosses the bouquet; but this bouquet was thrust upon me, along with the commission that I find a husband within the year or I will shame their families and doom their marriage. When I told the groom that I don't even technically have a boyfriend, his expression changed from benevolent hopefullness to abject terror and said, "You must try harder! You must!" It's on my to-do list, now, along with my family's 2009 Christmas Letter and applying to grad school.

Experience of a lifetime--really, so much more to tell, like the guy in the wife-beater who watched me dry my hair for 15 minutes--but I can't waste another hour if I'm ever to find a husband in the requisite time frame.

The Answer is Always "Monkey"

Yesterday, I auditioned several dozen children-type people for theatre shows. To start, I just ask questions about what they like to do--makes them feel non-threatened while I assess their English level.
I've had some interesting experiences doing this: a kid who cried on his mom's lap every time I asked him his age. A girl who, although I suggested she could sing "Happy Birthday" or "Twinkle, Twinkle," replied, "I will sing the Chinese national anthem." And so she did--in its entirety.
Yesterday, I had Queenie, age 4.

me: So, Queenie, what do you like to do at school?
Q: Monkey.
me: Oh! Do you have a game called 'Monkey'?
Q: yes
me: That's great. Do you play any sports?
Q: yes
me: What sport do you play?
Q: Monkey.
me: Oh...okay. Do you like music?
Q: yes
me: Do you play an instrument?
Q: Monkey.

So, when in doubt...Monkey.
I've been rubbish at blogging of late, as you can see as I tell tales of toddlers. Also, I can't find the cord that connects my camera to my computer, so I can't post recent photos of a hike where I saw many monkeys. Serendipitous coincidence defines my life.

I know I'm not supposed to talk of future events on the internet, in order to discourage predators, but in an effort to keep my blog readers waiting in anticipation for something worth reading: Soon, I will go to China for my friend's wedding. Although in recently past months, we had gone to movies and dinners and the like, he sent me a facebook message to the tune of: "Camber--I will marry on [insert date]. I invite you to go to my wedding." Right on. I have a hunch it's an arranged marriage of some sort and I am the token caucasian. My flatmate has warned me that I'm going to have to eat some disgusting things, so I plan to stock up on granola bars before I go.
I'm charging my camera battery now, so bate your breath for a pictoral review of being a foreigner at a Chinese wedding of an arranged marriage! I have no idea what to wear.

This is my Hatin' on the Kong Blog. I'll get over it.

I sold a painting. In my quest to relinquish myself of all extraneous possessions and live like a nomadic Gandhi, I posted several items for sale on a site for expats in Hong Kong. I sold my DVD player and space heater to an Indian family. I'll take my toaster to someone tomorrow. My tennis racket and hair dryer are still on the market. I even received several offers for dates from these ads (though that was not the intent)--due to the hilarious descriptions I posted along with the photos. I turned them all down.

As a joke, I also put my first and only painting up for sale. It was sold in less than 15 minutes to a handsome Chinese man with a British accent. He brought along a pen with which he urged me to sign the piece. I polled my friends on facebook to decide whether he really thinks I'm the next Picasso (for he said so) or if he's trying to steal my identity. I think identity theft won out, citing the "special pen" he brought, from which he will definitely lift my finger prints.

Other than being a famous artist, life has remained a steady flow of teaching classes, rehearsing for Rocky, and training for the 5K race. I can't run the 5K race anymore, due to work, which I did not know about until after I had already signed up and paid for the race. I'm more than ready to be free from these tethers of non-communication.

I'm actually more than ready to leave Hong Kong; mostly because of the air pollution, the slow walkers, the smokers, and the lack of sarcasm comprehension. I'll miss the curry, though. And the sushi.

Hola, Hong Kong

Alert blog readers will easily recall Rita, my friend from Spain, currently living in Beijing. She once again visited Hong Kong, but this time with her mom, Rita. Two Ritas are even better than one.
Mama Rita is loca, in the best way possible. She also was the object of attention
from all the men in Hong Kong.

We toured around Hong Kong on my day off and met for dinner and disgusting dessert on days I worked.
I don't know the precise contents of these photos, but I know that in at least one, you can see my red, now fading to pink hair.
You'll also notice the higher quality of photos, thanks to Rita 2.0 and her equipment and talent. My camera's battery has been dead for a month.

My fellow Americans

I went to the US Consulate yesterday to add pages to my passport. I love the US Consulate for all the right reasons. I'll probably elope there if I ever find an unmarried straight man who appreciates sarcasm, has a thorough knowledge of "Seinfeld," and showers daily. But that's like trying to find a unicorn in the New York subway--a Hindu in the Vatican--a liberal in western South Dakota. (You get points for more examples)

Anyway, the Consulate. They confiscated my deodorant, sunscreen, and mobile phone, but those are extravagances. I'm trying to live more like Ghandi these days anyway. It's going pretty well. I walk everywhere, even if it takes 2 hours. I don't eat much unclean meat, but I guess that's more like Abraham than Ghandi. And I'm learning Spanish.

I had my final show for work last weekend--a fabulous Penguin show at the Library. I know it was fabulous because only one child struck me.

Now I am covering classes for an absent teacher. It's grand. I get to be Miss Camber again...Miss Camber is my alter-ego. She cares deeply about children and wants them to succeed in life. One precocious brat of a student called her "counter-intuitive" the other day. Miss Camber does not dwell on impossible insults.

Back track to "Lysistrata"--we performed this oldest comedy ever written as a charity to raise scholarship money for students to attend classes at the studio. Directed by the lovely and talented Meaghan McGurgan, the production--despite every obstacle possible, went off well.

I'm wearing a mask, which I'm sure my sister would say is a better look for me and I should consider wearing one at all times.

I moved away from the Bedazzler! No more reverse thongs for me...I mean, for me to see on her. I don't really want to say where I live now, for fear of a weird guy, but I'll say it's close to a synagogue. There are guards outside of it at all times. I call them synaguards. No one else thinks that's as funny as I do.

I'm living in the best possible situation. Currently alone and "house sitting" while my friend Kath visits her 92-year-old grandma in Manchester. When she returns, we'll be flatmates for a couple of months before I leave Hong Kong in November. She doesn't want me to pay rent. I'm so thankful for this boon! She just wants to do something nice and I am the fortunate beneficiary.

I dyed half of my hair a really trailer-trashy red-pink. It's the bottom half, so I can still sort of convince people to take me seriously.

To celebrate America, Lindsey, her mom, and I hiked 4-hours in high 90s temps on Lamma Island.
Lamma scene:


In a semi-deserted village:
A bit of the daily for The, Dad:

And a rain-filled light bulb:

This is a Kamikaze grotto. The Japanese constructed these caves to store speedboats and other equipment for an attack on the Allied forces. The War ended before they finished, so they were never used:


Also, I finally went to the Central Post Office and saw this stamp mosaic. Totally worth it:

China and South Dakota. same same.

Let's not dwell too long on how utterly outrageous my blog hiatus was. I've been out of control.
Taking it back a bit: in May, the TIE team made a historic trip to Guangzhou, China.
With 6 shows in 2 days, we spent most of our time illegally trapped inside a Red Army building (our venue). Foreigners and photographs aren't allowed inside, so let's not complain I don't have photos of the giant Communist star we removed from the stage and just be happy I'm not in a Chinese prison.

Between shows, Lindsey and I ventured into Martyr's Park--described as "very peaceful." Clearly:

Nothing says 'peace' quite like a giant gun rising from the earth.

So, what stop should we get off at?:

Don't know why, but I think of my dad when I think about peasant revolts and the rise of the proletariat.

Imitation Mickey Mouses should always get decapitated:

Cheese Fun:

I think I asked Lindsey to attempt to encapsulate both cheese and fun into her face.
Safety 13th:

Back in the park, kids with swords:
Me, with Penguin hair, on a lamp:
Inside the underground malls, there are DJs, of course. They're spinnin' tunes in glass cages all day and night:
Getting serious at the arcade:
Costume change:
Someone was actually playing, so I couldn't hold the gun.
I really wanted to eat here, but was inexplicably vetoed:
The Pearl River:
An army-glorifying ballet:
At one show, a little boy said to me (or rather, to Pipi the Penguin) in one breath: "Hello how are you nice to meet you see you tomorrow."

I went to South Dakota for wedding mania!
First, the wedding of Jenna Hardy, a friend from high school band camp and SDSU--also met several times when we lived on the east coast.
The beautiful bride and I:
A guy at the wedding wore really tight jeans. My new friend Thoa and I inconspicuously took a photo:
My family held a picnic party to celebrate my return, much like the prodigal son. It was amazing! We didn't kill the fatted calf, but we had KFC, which is even better.

I chased my cousins around the park. They managed to get us to stand still long enough for this photo:
Throughout the week, I hung out with Grandma, visited friends, etc....then drove up to Aberdeen for wedding #2: Jessica McQuillen. I was honored to be a bridesmaid:
Two of my favorite people, Nikki and Dallas:

I dance dramatically:

So ends the tale for now. Jacksonvillians may look out for a Source article in the near future.
next blog: Lysistrata and the big MOVE out of the Bedazzler's Lair...