Those Sporty Wileys

Chip was asked to join the English faculty basketball team. By American standards, it's not really "his game," but in a country where everybody loves the NBA, nobody cares a hoot about baseball. So he enjoys playing a little basketball, getting the exercise, and tonight he is even out to dinner with the team.

Mallary joined a yoga/dance class. Monday/Wednesday/Friday is killer I-can't bend-my-body-like-that-little-Chinese-girl yoga, and Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday is "learn a dance routine" (jazz, zumba, hint of ballet, maybe martial arts). As a former Jazzercise instructor, I really do enjoy the class. But tonight was not my best performance. . .

We were learning a jazz routine. I was in the back row. It was hard for me to see the instructor. I can't understand Chinese, but I do understand the counts and I can mimic body movements pretty well. . .usually. I was struggling tremendously with one particular move. My arms and legs just could not coordinate the motion. This soon became clear to the instructor. Her solution? Pull me up on stage. Yep, that's right. A good game of "laugh at the foreigner." She kept me up there with her for the next 20 minutes! We became partners in a tango-like section of the routine. It was dramatic. I did my best to play the role. I can't even describe it. I flipped my leg up at one point and nearly fell over as she continued directing me to upcoming moves all in Chinese. I wish the evening could have been video recorded. It would have been some good comic relief.

Two English students talked to me afterward. They were very complimentary of their foreign teacher's dance skills. They recommended that I teach the dance to Chip so we could do it together on the beaches of Qingdao because it would be so romantic. Hmm. I'm not so sure I can convince Chip, but if I do, I will be sure there is video footage!

Practicing my yoga