More than 2 years in China, and I still don't know what to make of it. It's learning Mandarin and its unconquerable four tones, following the suggestions in my book to raise my eyebrows to the second tone, stamp my foot to the fourth, and dip my chin down then up with the third, attracting concerned looks at the Lazy Book Cafe in Dali as I hold a cup of coffee in one hand and book in the other, my head bobbing, foot stamping, eyebrows rising and falling. It's meeting and hanging out with other travelers who got stuck in Dali. Like me. People from all walks of life, all just hanging out and putting their real lives on hold. Or were those days the real bits, with the jobs we all had to eventually return
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