the fashion show

Last week I walked the runway in a roomfull of Chinese students eager to get an eyeful of foreign skin. Twice. A bunch of us in the CET program got roped into performing at this welcome night for the new students in the university. It was supposedly a "fashion show" but we just grabbed clothes out of each other's closets and called it good. For one, we had no designers handy to whip up a creative yet cohesive line in under a week, and two, we all knew they were basically just interested in what was walking around inside the clothes.

Sure enough, we were a success at the welcome night. Our act followed an off key rendition of a chinese pop song by a timid, motionless male backed up by two female dancers, and a classical sounding tune on a traditional chinese stringed instrument. I guess, comparatively speaking, the audience had good reason to be interested by caucasians in swimsuits, all hints of self-consciousness burned away years ago by a strict regimen of confidence builders and college crazyness in America. Our strutting music might have been blaring from the distorted speakers of a cheap boombox, possibly bought downtown at Walmart, but at least it had a nice heavy beat that contrasted with the crooning of Mr. Timid and a tune by the Chinese Mozart. I guess everyone missed the fact that unlike all other acts of the evening, ours required no skill whatsoever.

They liked us so much that we recieved an invitation for an encore performance a few days later, at the culminating event of the Harbin Institute of Technology "boy's week" . Essentially, it was a Mr. University competition. We weren't actually competing for the title, like everyone else, just a side act for entertainment only. The audience was bigger this time, maybe a few hundred, and we really got the third floor of the cafeteria hopping. As I flaunted it down the aisle in the bare feet required by our "beachwear" theme, I tried to forget the numerous unsanitary situations I'd seen while eating lunch in that same room. Unfortunatly, I was constantly reminded by the way the soles of my feet were semi-glued to the floor with every step.

Check out the festivities in this photo from the second time through. Anyone who forgot what I look like, I'm the third from the right. The photo is directly off the university website, check out the original here if you want - http://today.hit.edu.cn/2006/10-19/10131500.htm. The two most risque performers, clad only in skin-tight underpants, were unfortunately left of of this picture. Either they were too far left in the line for the camera to handle, or the Chinese censors are at work. All you Cougs out there, look closely at my chest area. You already were? Good. Then you noticed the WSU Lanyard brought straight from the bookie to China, faithfully carrying my keys all year long. Go Cougs!