today we visited a drug clinic, the biggest rehab facility in China. Not only does Yunnan have the most poor people, but also the most heroin addicts and the highest incidence of AIDS, all in province!!! What a deal. The clinic was exactly what the government wants you to see. Cheerful inmates in matching tracksuits perfectly arranged four-to-a-table in the library. Smiling smack addicts performing a cheesy Chinese culture revue, led by an emcee who probably thought he was on a game show. All around was propaganda about "6.26," the Chinese-invented "miracle drug" that was supposedly an herbal cure for heroin addiction, with a 98% success rate and no side-effects. Ok. It was like the Olympics, "6.26" on posters on the walls and flashing from every page of the patient-run magazine, Kaishi. "6.26 is a cultural miracle! Unlike the deadly chemicals spawned from German labs! We praise China's enduring kindness and cunning scientific wit!"

it dawns on me that some of you just want to hear about a typical day here, one unmarred by forced basketball games with heroin addicts. Not that heroin addicts are bad people, I'm just not really into basketball. Every morning I wake up around 7, take a shower and review some homework before heading to class. I usually eat a mantou, which is basically boiled Wonder Bread, or sometimes a scallion pancake or mushroom dumpling. Unless I am getting Indian food that evening, that is the best-tasting food I will have all day, which, let's face it, is pretty sad.

(for lunch at the rehab clinic, the only thing that wasn't battered and deep fried--really, China?--was defrosted cherry tomatoes. Which tasted like they had been repeatedly put in and pulled out of the freezer over a period of weeks by someone who couldn't quite make up his mind on whom to burden his sad fruit).

We have Chinese class from 8 to 12 every day, with a little break in between where we do taiji with an old Chinese guy whose only English is, on repeat, "the legs..." I can't wait to tell my chiropractor.

after Chinese I get lunch, from the noodle vendors in the alley or from the Muslim cafeteria. Then I try to fit in some more chinese homework (but usually end up sleeping) before afternoon lecture on Chinese history and culture. Thank god we finished the unit with the terrifying videos on the Cultural Revolution. I was starting to lose my faith in the human race.

there isn't much time to do things between classes and the library, but we often go exploring around the little shops and parks nearby, and almost always end up on Western street. Since Kunming doesn't have any tourists, all the foreign people are expats and college students, which can be pretty interesting. All the white men throw themselves at Asian girls, must find wife. You start to run into the same people everywhere you go, since it's such a small community, especially at Salvador's, the coffee shop where we all go do work and dabble in the smoothie menu.

every night in the library here, there seems to be some sort of cult that meets across the hall, droning on and on in a chant that could be a membership prerequisite to some sort of secret society. Our professor later informed us they were learning Vietnamese.

This is what it sounds like:

Professor: Maaaaaaaaww.
Chinese people: Maaaaaaaaww.
Professor: Maaaaaaaaww.
Chinese people: Maaaaaaaaww.
Professor: Maaaaaaaaww.
Chinese people: Maaaaaaaaww.

besides the omnipresent pug, Chinese people are very fond of huskies and samoyeds. The front baskets of bicycles are often filled with fat, curious puppies, and it's not uncommon to see a large man walk down the street cradling a little white ball of fur.

we have four more straight days of class, on Saturday and Sunday, before they have to get rid of us for a week due to the holiday. V. excited for Xishuangbanna!