I’ve got to say, this day has been one of highs and lows. On the plane here (Xian) I considered making this email part of my hormonal diary, before I decided that this would not benefit you quite in the same way as it might myself. Nevertheless, for context I feel that you must know at least some of it.
I experienced several episodes of elated euphoria accompanied by a sensation of weightlessness, where I felt the need to cry silent tears of joy at the sight of the slightest wonder. Between these, though, came periods of exasperated frustration where my fuse remained a little shorter than usual. The listing of pricing and of wages which I would normally wave off with amusement became intensely irritating as I pushed back the urge to roll my eyes. ‘It’s in the blood’ I thought to myself again. It was almost a comforting realisation, allowing me to release any guilt that I might have previously felt about constantly evaluating values and comparing prices. You see, I was Jackson born and raised. In fact, one of my earlier memories of my Grandmother (besides her smacking me when I refused to put on my pyjamas properly and my internal and solemn oath to endeavour to hate her forever more – I know POOR HER) was her holding up a bucket of marshmallows at a market in Epsom.
“Is this a good price?” She asked me. I was confused and replied “It’s five pounds … Don’t you know how much that is in Rand?” She knew alright.
“yes but is that a good price?” she inquired. I think I was 10.
Even so, when I was told the price of this mini-trip to Xian WHICH by the way, none of us paid for (I get the sense that the son of the people in the Hou house paid for it) I had to grit my teeth. The hotel is lovely also, a sign that none of my contingent paid for it. The Jackson’s never, ever treat themselves unless its a deal that is too good to go unwasted. I think this is probably why I am constantly confused about you treating yourself and so reluctant to do the same for me.
Anyways, let me begin again at the beginning of this day, now the rant and rave is over. My Uncle and Auntie knocked on the door at five to eight and we ate our breakfast. It was there that I learnt that my Uncle doesn’t believe in climate change. “How did the ice caps melt after the ice age then hey?!” He said, his eyebrows raised to the sky. “The big man up there decides it all”. I think he meant God, although I would be unsurprised if it turned out that he was referring to the Chinese government. Aunty A Mee and her son Leon then came to escort us to the airport. It was this journey that almost made me scream. Dawdling and moving oh-so-slowly up and down escalators whilst wheeling luggage. Can you imagine the stress. Then they took my fucking battery pack, in the slowest and most meticulous bag check that I have ever encountered. You see, the company that made my pack had failed to inscribe on the side how much wattage it held. I’m not sure who I was most angry at. My fellow travellers failed to notice, and I elected to keep it that way. Explaining what a battery pack is would have been enough of a struggle.
From what I can gather, I will be staying here for another 4 nights? Then we will return to Guang Dong, where I will possibly be left to my own devices without my Uncle (unlikely). I have already eaten more meat than I care to mention, my tongue sensing meat stock almost before it hits my mouth. It’s annoying, but at least they have been extremely tolerant of what must be an extremely inconvenient (perceived) eating disorder.
I did have a good ole’ run on the machine and sweat buckets.
I must settle down into this extremely modern bed in this extremely modern room. Did I mention that I’ve ended up sharing with both my Uncle and Aunty? I’d have a whinge but my Uncle apologised so profusely that I haven’t the heart.
Love from,
Kirstn
A little bit of a Hou 