Getting the Knife in the Orient

Before I came out to China my university forced me to endure an all-day "Made for Morons Marathon" of videos, speeches, and dumbed-down documents specifically geared to get you ready for the worst possible things that could happen to you in a foreign country. Such gems like don't eat a raw chicken; don't buy drugs in a dark alley from a menacing man holding a crow bar; or make sure to have a passport (WOW! I never would have known this guys...gee thanks) were instructed to me with the utmost seriousness.

BUT THEY NEVER TOLD ME WHAT DO IF I TEAR MY ACL IN A SOCCER GAME IN CHINA!!!
You would have thought with all the useless jargon that was thrown my way like a flamethrower on a pile of gasoline, that maybe serious knee injury would have made it on the list. But not so much... Medical insurance...check. But how to handle dealing with a hospital where the native language is not English, or how to stumble into class on-time when a sloth could beat you in a foot race; or how to walk down a dangerous street by yourself when a girl scout could literally put you down for the count with one tiny shin kick.......these things were not explained to me in vivid detail. Throw in a worrying Mom who probably can't sleep; insurance policies that are as ambiguous as Clay Aiken was a week ago; ten different people telling you ten different ways to handle your looming surgery; and a bunch of nervous Chinese women who will not give you five minutes to forget about your potential knife fight with a Chinese surgeon. And this my friends...this is culture shock times ten~!!!

SO now that I have vented let me explain some of the humor for you all to laugh at, as there is a funny story behind all of this. My study-abroad school rocks. Sorry to my current scholarly employer, but if I had it my way I would finish my studies out here. It is the Harvard of China, and the school is a marvelous creation with all kinds of weird things. Moats of green sludge that zig-zag in every which way, big buildings that look like they were designed during the Middle Ages, thousands of Chinese students on bicycles who are constantly almost crashing into each other. This is home.

My classmates are mostly cool and range in nation of origin from Spain, to Norway, to Argentina, to Cameroon. There is a constant supply of sports going on around here, and since I am liking a dog whose mind automatically forgets about everything else when a soccer ball is kicked, I have been on the pitch all of the time. After trying out for an MBA team I awkwardly ended up kicking it around with the actual university team, and after a few practices with the university team, I actually found myself playing for my university team in a real game. This Spaniard (who probably was kicking a futbol as soon as he exited the womb) and I made the A-Team, and in our first game the ludicrous coach who shouts at us in Chinese like we are a bunch of Samurai warriors put us both in the game (on a side-note, I did not start, nor was I the first off of the bench). Our team got scored on twice faster than some of the Chinese hookers at the KTV's, and all of the sudden I found myself leading the charge and playing far better than I ever have in my life. Since the average Chinese athlete weighs about the same as most American ten year-olds I was able to really push the other team around, and won almost every header. At the end of the second half I almost scored on a diving header, and after the half the coach sang my praises. I was high-hived by all of the other players on the team, as I had finally gained their respect and it looked as if I would finally be a college athlete. When I went to undergrad I wrestled with the idea of playing soccer at a smaller school instead of going to USC... So this was kind of like me riding some sort of dream that only the world's biggest dorks would have. Most people want to be CEO, a famous actor, the Prez. I just wanted to play university soccer. We're not even talking about Hoops. But hey, for me this was a big deal and I was pretty fired up.

For some strange reason I found myself jogging out for a third half of action, even though this makes no sense it seemed completely normal at the time. Five minutes later I found myself twisting my knee in every which way, and hearing a "pop" which generally means that you are completely screwed...I know, because I am. So that was my college soccer career. I played one game, scored zero goals, zero assists, I did commit a few fouls, and that's all she wrote. This "pop" was my ACL, and this ligament will keep me from playing active sports for the next six months. I have never had a serious injury in my entire life, and I can at least take solace in knowing that I earned it on the field of battle. Not a bad story to tell, I could have done in practicing tai-chi or worse. I have been playing sports for twenty years so I was do, and I am not mad at anyone or anything. It is certainly a glove in the face, but I'm moving on. This will give me more time to meet people and get my school work done, and I should be able to swim within a few weeks.

Well, I gotta eat now. My surgery is in fifteen hours, and I am supposed to fast for twelve. I will be in the hospital for two days, and if things go well I won't miss a day of class.

the soon to be knifed,
Matt Atkinson

P.S. The USC football loss has not made this any easier. And I was able to find a good hospital where my insurance covers 70% of the surgery.