Post the Eighth: The Health Edition

Greetings from the end of another hectic week! I promise I'll add some photos later (hopefully I'll have good ones after this weekend). I've just gotten my head back on so I only have two things but here they are anyway:

•  I HATE bugs. You know what I really hate? Mosquitoes. You know what Harbin has a lot of? The little blood-suckers. My father's side of the family is known for being especially popular with the little devils and I, in keeping with family tradition, have inherited this trait. Yesterday at lunch I sat outside with a bunch of friends to eat. Everyone was wearing shorts and a T-shirt except for myself (full length pants and a button down shirt). Guess who got bitten on two knuckles (WHAT) and finger tip (WHY)? The three sites were beautifully swollen last night and I lost the use of my left hand due to itchy pain - I can tell you right now that I had no idea how much I used that hand until last night when suddenly every motion (including typing) became an histamine-induced hassle. Today I bought a Chinese bug bite ointment after class from my usual lunch haunt, the Special Flavored Food Market. The tiny little box housed an even smaller lipstick-sized tube, which was only half-filled with actual medicine. I'm pretty sure the stuff contains some derivative of morphine since all three bites AND the finger I used to apply the cream have gone completely numb. I guess that's better, right?
• I joined a nearby gym the other day so I could use their dance studio to choreograph as well as fight the few new pounds of beef-fried-rice I've recently added. To help those of you in other areas of the world understand the Chinese gym, let my provide you with a visual. Imagine you are in an American gym but only half the lights are on. Also imagine that this gym has no air conditioning. There are two 200 pound Chinese men playing ping-pong in the corner while their 250 pound friend watches. They are all shirtless. None of them have anything closely resembling a six-pack. There are a couple bean-pole thin Chinese men lifting weights (or water bottles, I didn't have my contacts in) amongst a slim smattering of Russian expats (all of whom are at least 6'2" and could easily subdue their bear friends in the north). Of all the exercise machines available, the only ones being used are the treadmills, everything else is draped in hanging clothes and designer bags. Nobody is running on any of them, just walking for ten minute intervals before resting on a nearby couch for fifteen more minutes. Oh, also, only half the people are wearing work out clothes; everyone else is still in their work/class attire (I swear I saw a guy still in the bottom half of his pants-suit). Get the picture? At least the dance studio isn't crowded. Then again, when there's a foreigner running a few ghetto hippity-hop dance routines, suddenly the dance room is the place to be.

Tonight we'll be celebrating a friend's birthday in Chinese style (in other words, we'll be going to KTV to perform some undoubtedly stunning karaoke). This weekend is going to be pretty packed as tomorrow features a trip to the Siberian Tiger Park to feed chickens (and other unfortunate creatures) to the endangered tigers there. OMNOMNOM. My composition teacher is getting married on Sunday and has kindly invited us to the wedding. My bag was several pounds overweight, yet I still have nothing appropriate to wear. Fail.

魏德