A Hundred Stories to Tell, But No Pictures to Help

This post did not get published because I just never finished writing it. I'll publish the incomplete version now so that, if you really want to hear more, you can request elaboration:

I wish I took my camera with me everywhere I went. Oh, wait -- I do. Well, I wish I used my camera everywhere I went. There is one part of me that wants to document everything I do, and the other, much more dominant part, that just wants to experience everything and forget worrying about writing anything down or taking pictures.

Then, I sit down to write a post, and the mini-me that likes to photo document life begins to kick the living hell out of the lazy sensual side that thought it could escape unharassed. For each picture I did not take, I should write a thousand words just to make ends meet, but, for all of our sakes, I will not.

Here is a relatively brief rundown of some of the things that I wish I could elaborate on extensively:

Saturday Brunch
Three of my students took me out to an exceptional brunch this weekend at a famous restaurant in Zhuhai that my fellow foreigners have never heard of. I think I know how to say the name (Jin Yue Xuan) but I do not remember the characters, and will not take time to employ my crazy awesome Googling skillz. We rode several buses (always a plus for me, since I love riding Chinese buses, packed to the rim or not), and I got to stand at the entryway of the first one because it was so full. I was right up against the door, so when the driver opened it at a stop (at which fewer people got off than got on, accentuating my impression that this version of fullness would never be achieved on an American bus), the door would catch my backpack if I did not wriggle away from it. The driver would accept payment from new passengers in the front of the bus, then send them to the back of the bus to board (even though the back is usually strictly an exit). After a couple of popular destinations, the bus relieved itself of enough passengers that my students could find a seat for me (they were very gracious and continued to stand while I sat. Although I like standing, I wanted to appreciate their kindness, so I took great pleasure in sitting, too.).
Two buses later, we got to the restaurant. A host of hostesses greeted us and sent us up an elevator to a well-appointed room with a few large tables, a splendidly decorated restroom, and a warning to keep the meal under two hours in duration. We did so, eating a variety of foods ranging from chicken feet and pig's blood to little balls of sweet glutinous rice wrapped in big tropical leaves, pumpkin cheese pastry puffs and steamed buns stuffed with unidentifiable goodness.
The meal was splendid and served piece at a time, but the conversation was even better and flowed from beginning to end. My students are smart and engaging people, willing to help me patiently with my Chinese despite the fact that their English is fluent enough to handle any topic of conversation in which we may want to engage. We spent a lot of time learning new words from one another (they were learning words like euphemism and ephedra; I was learning boil and "grass fruit").
We continued trading bits of knowledge after lunch as we shopped at a local grocery & department store. My side of the conversation was, "This is common in America; this is not. We eat this for breakfast (*pointing to boxes of cereal*), but I don't know what that is (*pointing to something next to the cereal*)." I went crazy over the organic foods because there were vegan offerings I had not seen before in China, including my beloved nutritional yeast flakes. I didn't buy them because I did not need them, but to anyone in the States wanting to try something even tastier on spaghetti than Parmesan cheese (and with greater nutritional value in a variety of ways) or desiring to challenge the exploitation of animals, you should consider nutritional yeast. I also had a field day buying some spicy pepper paste and kaofu (dried-after-being-steamed wheat gluten patties: almost flavorless alone, but great carriers of any sauce or seasoning).
Going out with my students made me wish I could do that all the time. I loved simply having fun with them, engaging in the kind of cultural exchange and relaxed conversations we did. But now I am reminded that I actually have work to do...