A Portrait of Greg: Death Warmed Over

My first day in China was [insert every adjective here]. It began on a Friday and ended late Sunday evening. It started 39 hours ago.

After a mostly uneventful commuter flight to New York from Virginia, I was thrown into the mass of people and baggage that will be the center of my next 8 months. All of us immediately clicked, everyone sharing a common energy and excitement for what awaits us. Destiny awaited us in the Far East, whether we were prepared or not.

The flight to Shanghai was again, for the most part, uneventful. Punctuated by a smorgasbord of mostly unpalatable airline meals, the majority of the 16 ½ hour voyage was spent in a nearly hibernatic state of slowly coiling tension as backs and necks seized up from prolonged exposure to not-quite-comfortable airline seating. However, it seemed the general consensus was that the flight passed quicker than expected, and we landed in Shanghai without any real trauma.

At that point, my mind had already begun to fry. I was hungry, tired, and twisted into a painful mass after my second flight. We passed through mostly lackluster security, wandered through the quickly filling terminal, and arrived at our next gate. Unsurprisingly, what fascinated me the most was the difference in food options.

Vending machines selling milk beverage and other unidentifiable drink in either tepid or hot form captured my attention...

...but were soon replaced by other queer delicacies, such as the reasonably priced (and poorly photographed) “Bittern Fragrant Pig Hoof”.

What struck me the most was how strange we seemed to most of the local populace. When three or more of the blondes in the cast were in the same spot, gawking Chinese eagerly flashed cameras in our direction, wanting to have visual evidence of the oddity. It was an interesting feeling, bringing out more exhibitionistic qualities in myself than I knew I had. I wanted to flaunt my blonde coif.

The trip deeper into the country only got stranger. Boarding our last flight into Chengdu, we were told by automated message that “If you see a mask (in reference to the emergency oxygen system), put out your cigarette”. This lent me no comfort about the safety of our flight.

We arrived in one piece, only to be mauled by the eager press. As you can see, we were a big hit with the local reporters.

We basked in the feeling of superstardom for a precious few moments, then shuffled over to our bus, dead tired and ready for a shower. Unfortunately, our rooms were not ready, so my roommate Chris and I decided to explore. What was our first stop? Starbuck’s. How American.

We took a short trek around the block, Chris shouting greetings to every Chinese person we passed on the street. We rounded a corner and suddenly entered a new world, crossing into a part of town not visible from the main streets. A narrow alley filled with stalls occupied by men gambling over tiles engulfed us. We were surrounded with strips of raw meat hanging from hooks and lines of cow hearts slapped down onto the bare planks of wooden tables. The sight of baby pools filled with live fish and eels filled our eyes while the scent of decaying meat and voided entrails filled our nostrils. Chris and I simutaneously decided that we had finally left America. Unfortunately, I was too worried that my camera was going to get taken from me to take any pictures.

After our quick adventure we returned to the hotel for a shower, a change of clothes, and an orientation from Troika. We sat for an hour or so, learned some basic info, and received our more than welcome per diems. At this point, most of us are very, very tired, and very, very hungry.

A group of us set out on a fruitless venture to purchase an alarm clock, which was to be followed by dinner. After what seemed an eternity to my starvation-addled brain, we finally settled on an establishment. The group of us collapsed at a pair of tables. We were immediately beset by the entire staff wanting to take our order. The menus weren’t in anything close to English, and there were no pictures. We glanced around at some things that other people were eating, trying with no success to figure out what we wanted to eat. Somehow I ended up with a bowl of what looked and tasted like a giant bowl of mucus peppered with dried soybeans, chives, and crunchy noodles.

It cost me the equivalent of 60 cents.

I ate it all.

I’m currently sitting in my hotel room, thoughts banging uninhibited through my brain. I start rehearsal in the morning, and I couldn’t feel much less prepared.

I also couldn’t be much happier.