Stretched out on a tarmac.

Hello all;

I've spent the last few days in; intestinal pain, Chengdu, love, longing, Kunming.

Intestinal pain:
My carefree diet is punishing me in the form of traveller's 'rhea. The medication for which I chose to ignore prior to leaving. Murphy. Lulu took care of me yesterday, and now I have to consume an abhorred elixir. But my 'doutza' and 'peegoo' have never been better because of it.

Chengdu:
Lulu needed to get some passport info straightened out in Chengdu. She's going to France. We were far away from where the earthquakes wake was greatest felt, which is a little too bad. We (JP and I) had been invited to do some disaster-relief, but those plans were kyboshed four days ago. That same evening Lulu proposed we go with her, so we ended up in Chengdu anyway, just with a different purpose. I'm really happy that we did, because I met some incredibly amazing people.

Love:
For this country, these people, this language, life, His provisions, His promises.

Longing:
To cook dins with Meg, to hold Norah, to congratulate my bro and sis'n'law, to know how many hundredth's of an inch it's rained, to listen to records, skate, film, to bicycle with a single gear, to dance, to eat Monday Madness, to engage in physical
labor, to make witty jokes at music videos.

Kunming:
I've been here for the last two weeksish, this Wednesday we are bound to head back to Nanning. They call it the Spring City because of the moderate temps. Well lately the Spring City has sprung a leak so to speak. It's been squalling for the past three days. When I arrived from Chengdu, I took a taxi el solo from the airport to our apartment here. There was no room for air between the bed of the car and the lake upon which we drove. On the ride I noticed an auto flipped over, and bike-lane dividers demolished by hydroplaning motorists. It was frightening, especially when the taxi driver reached a fork in the road, and asked me where he ought to go. "Wo bu zhidao" I said, and sent up a silent word. I am hopeless at orienting myself in a city unless I study a map. Usually I have a seasoned linguist with me should I find myself a-mute, but I was by myself.
Somehow I ended up 20 meters from my doorstep. Incredible. In the time it took me to walk that 20 meters, myself, and all the luggage (no, not my own) I was carrying was waterlogged. It was an awe-inspiring amount of water, the heavens were open, both in the form of precipitation and blessing.