Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll

Today I had my Chinese performance debut, and almost accidentally paid for sex.

I had no rehearsal today until 4:30, so my roommate Chris and I spent the day experiencing Chengdu. One thing on our to do list was getting a massage, since they are incredibly cheap here in China. After spending an action packed morning shopping at the local grocery store, we joined some fellow cast mates for what may be the best Kung Pow Chicken in the World. It was both richly flavored yet still subtle, studded with juicy tidbits of cucumber, tender chunks of chicken, and sweet crunchy peanuts. I stuffed myself silly at a slightly expensive 12 Yuan (less than $2).

Chris and I had booked our massage appointments for 2:00, so we headed back to the hotel after lunch. After changing into shorts and t-shirts, we headed to the spa section of the hotel. Upon arriving, we were greeted by the man in charge of the spa, who introduced us to our provocatively dressed "massage therapists". He led us to the back rooms, then sauntered over close to Chris, saying "You want?" while closing his index finger and thumb of his left hand into a circle while repeatedly thrusting into it with the index finger of his right hand. Unfortunately, the massages we received were not particularly good. Our masseuses seemed to have more experience offering other sorts of relaxation techniques.

After a brief afternoon rehearsal, we got our gym membership cards. Chris and I headed over to the facility, where we received a quick tour. It is somewhat small, and is too meagerly equipped for anyone interested in any serious weight training. However, I think I will feel great continuing to go there. Other than the personal trainers on staff, I was by far the largest, strongest user of the equipment. Apparently the Chinese don't have the same passion for sculpted muscle that Americans do.


I spent the remained of my evening exploring downtown Chengdu by myself. I spent most of the time returning people's shouted "Hello!"s and passing discount shoe stores. However, parts of the city were quite gorgeous. The center of the town was especially so, lit up with a multitude of color changing lights and enclosed by intricate moving fountains shooting water 20 feet into the air.


I also delved deeper into town than I had before, witnessing my first Chinese street performer. He was sitting on a bridge wearing a faux leather jacket and a cheap earring, singing what I imagine to be love ballads while accompanying himself on a gratingly out of tune guitar. I watched him for a little bit, then asked him if I could play. We spent the next 30 minutes or so trading songs back and forth. It was so fun I didn't even make him share the tip money.
Being a rock star is reward in itself.

6:30 AM on the 19th Floor

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.

Vacuum Packed

This is what my life has been reduced to.

Carefully packaged, neatly sorted, entirely unlike me.

I'm curious to see how long this particular format lasts. I've never traveled for this long without the safety of a CVS a short drive's length away.

I leave in less than 24 hours. Am I nervous? Most definitely.

Growing Up Through Garment Bags

Today I shelled out a substantial amount of money to purchase luggage for my trip. It is a strange concept to me that my bags may be worth more than all the rest of my things combined. On the upside, now I have room to pack more than I could possibly need!

To be honest, I have no idea what to actually bring. I don't think I actually know how to pack for multiple climates. I don't think I even have CLOTHING for multiple climates. My wardrobe consists mostly of t-shirts, jeans, and... t-shirts. I did invest in some sort of raincoat/windbreaker today as well. I don't think I've had one of those since I was 10. Typically, I just run around and get soaked. It was a step forward for me in the direction of responsible adulthood. What maketh a man, ask you? Luggage and raincoats, say I. Luggage and raincoats.

Bird's Nest Soup?

Last night I watched an episode of Andrew Zimmerman's "Bizarre Foods" on the Travel Channel. On this particular episode, he went to Beijing... which just so happens to be the capital of the country that I am getting ready to head to shortly. It took about a day or two to sink in, and for the nausea to dissipate.

Now, I am not a stranger to bizarre foods. I'll try most anything that someone puts in front of me. However, the concept of a camel's foot strip that tastes somewhat salty and has the texture of jelly or the sight of live scorpions wriggling on a skewer just waiting to be grilled hold no appeal for me. Nor does the thought of a restaurant entirely dedicated to serving penises of various animals.

Will I be tempted by a delicately sauteed cicada or a cold donkey salad? The possibility is intriguing. Who knows. I may find that live shrimp soaking in a bath of rice wine is just what my palate is craving. I think that I am setting aside an entire bag for a stash of Imodium A-D. Does anyone have any suggestions of things that I MUST try while I am there?

"I'm Nervous and Upset..."

The end of today places my departure for China in the single digits. Strangely, I was not a bit unnerved by this proposition-- that is, until I loaded up the Facebook page and pressed the button to friend the first person I knew was in the cast with me. At that moment, my bowels turned to water. Fear and anxiety began to rack me. I haven't even begun to pack! My luggage is too small! What do I even need? Why am I so hungry??

At that point, I had to force myself to go to the kitchen, grab a handful of Honey Nut Cheerios®, and relax.

After that, I started to get excited. I know that no matter what, I will survive. Luggage? Who cares. Socks and underwear? Unnecessary luxuries. Deodorant? Scent altering agents would just mask my natural pheromones! Blog? Yeah, I probably should start that. So here it is. I'll try to keep it updated on the escapades and adventures that find me in the Far East. I hope you come back for more.