You Know You've Been to too many villages when....

Probably about a year ago I posted "You know you've been in Asia too long when," but now Asia is life and I am actually turning a little country. So, You know you've been to too many villages when (in no particular order):
1. You can distinguish the flavor differences in different kinds of corn porridge*
2. You crave corn porridge when you are in the city
3. You know whether to use corn husks, stalks, twigs and leaves, or logs for the fire depending on what is being cooked.
4. You find the village bed more comfortable than your own
5. You find taking a shower in a pig sty refreshing
6. The children are no longer afraid of you
7. You find it odd that other people find it odd that you go to villages
8. You know the countryside bus attendants by name
9. You are somehow able to understand a lady speaking a language other than the one you are studying.
10. You can keep up with the locals while climbing the mountains (they were carrying my bag).

In actuality I am very far from being accustomed to village life, but I enjoy my short escapes from the city.
* Corn Porridge: take boiling water, slowling add cornmeal, whip with a special stick. As it may sound, corn porridge has very little flavor. My time eating cp it was ok, but not what I would choose to eat. After eating it a few more times, I decided that I really could not stand the gritty flavorless glop in my mouth. But then, I don't know how, I suddenly really started enjoying it. I can actually taste the sweetness of the corn and greatly enjoy it. It leaves a gritty feeling in your mouth when you are finished, but I suppose it is good for exfoliating your teeth and gums. For an extra special treat one time though, the cooked the corn meal in fresh chicken broth (this was especially good). As another side note, corn porridge is quite an art to make. City people cannot do it, it takes the skill of a villager. mmm I am making myself hungry.

Renao

For Mid-Autumn Festival, the celebration of the full moon and everything round, I decided to follow the crowds and go to the cities biggest park. Normally I try to avoid the crowds, but since I knew that this would be my last MAF for a while, I decided to be like the natives. I knew that the place was going to be packed, but I had no idea how packed. Oh My Goodness!! Can we say a lot of people! I was sitting outside the gate waiting for a friend and people just kept piling in. I have no idea how they all fit (very tightly). This is what the Asians call Renao (literaly translated hot noise), but meaning lively and noisy. To the locals, this is a very positive term. They love renao. If things are not renao, then they are not exciting. But to me, things stop being fun when there is a crowd. I am not clostrophobic or afraid of people, but when you cannot see two feet in front of you and you have to constantly watch yourself from stepping on people, then there are too many people. I would not be surprised if there were 1million people at that park. And I must tell you, I did not stick around very long.
But if you are interested, inside the park there were people selling paper lanterns, plastic torches and other light up toys, incense, round fruit,... People were set up on the lawn with displays of food, burning incense to something. My friend guided me through the lawn, but I had to leave because of the smell (as I wrote about before, I can't stand incense).
In all, the park seemed like a fun place to celebrate, if you like crowds, but since the moon is viewable from much more peaceful places, I will choose to go somewhere else next time.

I just thought these little chickens were cute poking their heads out of individual head holes in the box.

I recently moved into a new apartment (pictures to come) and I have to take an elevator to get to my 20th floor room. Look carefully at the picture of the buttons in the elevator. Is something wrong with this picture? There is no floor 4 or floor 14, but they are instead replaced by 5A and 15A. The reason for this is that the word for four very closely resembles the word for death. So, in superstition, four is a very unlucky number. Kind of like how some elevators in the west don't have 13, but they take it much more seriously here.