I thought it might amuse you all to see what I was seeing (peripherally, of course)
as I was reading through (focusing, of course, on) your papers this afternoon:

It's a fountain of otters playing on the Lubert Plaza of Thomas Jefferson University
(in center city Philadelphia, near where I live....)

Hello, my name is Ariana and I just recently switched into this course, so I guess I'll introduce myself here first. I am excited to meet you all and start learning. I thinks this class speaks to me specifically as i like to call myself a black feminist, and by this i mean that i value justice and equality for the black community (as well as other communities of color) and the justice and equality for women, not putting one above the other. The avatar I chose, or was hoping to choose (technologically challenged here) was of a vulture that I found in my yard one day when I came home. This turkey vulture, came into my life at a point where i was struggling with loving myself. That same day my father had found an article on these vultures and how although they have an ugly apperance, they are gentle creatures who clean up the mess what has been killed, and are graceful in flight. I was like the turkey vulture at that time, feeling ugly and unwanted, unaware of my ability to soar and cleanse the world. 

The lady in the photo slowly put down her cigarette, and looked at it. The lady in front of her was looking at her, probably waiting for her words. But she just sat there in silence. She didn’t speak a word until we left. Under the warm street lights, people were lingering slowly, slowly enough to make ten meters a long distance. So were we. We walked slowly with the crowd. Everything and everyone around us just slowed us down.

Chengdu is famous for its slow life pace. 256 B.C., Li Bing and his son built Dujiangyan, a hydraulic project which makes Chengdu a place without floods or droughts. When everything was very dependent on agriculture, this project greatly benefitted Chengdu, and made Chengdu a wealthy place. People never worried about their life in that period of time, and they spent more time seeking for a more comfortable lifestyle. There is an old saying: “Never go to Chengdu when you are young.” Because you will lose your ambitions, and will just indulge yourself in comforts at a young age. Today, there are people in the park who just sip tea for a whole afternoon. I asked my dad, “What is the meaning of sitting there and drinking tea for hours?” My dad said, “The meaning is that there is no meaning of it.”

I wasn't in class on Tuesday so I thought I would post my avatar now. My avatar is a picture of my dog Ginger. I have four dogs and I tend to talk about them a lot but Ginger is special because she hates me. I really enjoy this picture because my family adopted her from a shelter and she is not a particularly pretty dog. We have a love-hate relationship. She likes to hide behind chairs and stare at me while I sleep. I like to give her food which she won’t eat and crawl through bushes at night to bring her inside. She's this cranky little dog with bad teeth and stumpy little legs but she always makes my day entertaining and as much as she annoys me, I love her very much. It's hard to pick a picture for an avatar that other people will see all the time but I picked this picture because it makes me happy. I love her odd little face and it reminds me of home and whenever I look at this photo it makes me laugh. 

(“Downpour on Bourbon Street” by Diane Millsap)

Whether one considers New Orleans or New York City, some concepts a City hold true. The city is huge and vast and crowded, nothing quite so much as a humongous hidden object game, rivers of nameless faces in nameless places going about their unknown businesses. Here and there are bright faces and familiar places from fond memories or exciting opportunities. A museum, a zoo, a bakery, a mahjong game--  the city is a sugar rush.  Tasty and often ending in an energy crash, which never forestalls the next rush. The city is amazing for its opportunities, adventures, the stories lucking on every street corner and every stranger’s eye. The city is exhausting- constant lights, sights, sounds, the unending press of people.  Even the exhaustion can be exhilarating; there is nothing quite like when the city starts to sing, when the car horns and twinkling lights make up an impromptu extravaganza. Although cities are often draining, they are fun and terrific places to spend time go on adventures.

(Photos from Chinese social network)

I was born and raised in Hangzhou, China, and I went living in Shanghai two years ago. I felt suffocated at first. Not that I was nervous about living in a metropolis, since Hangzhou was also a big city, but much cleaner and quieter than Shanghai. During the first week in Shanghai, I was claustrophobic of so many buildings, scared at how bare the streets looked without trees, and nearly car-crashed for several times because drivers never seemed to be aware of pedestrains' existence. And walking in the city that never sleeps, every neon-light was like a bullet to me, ruthlessly litting every inch of space around me, leaving nowhere to hide.

I’m a traveler, born ready to explore every city in the world. I’ve been to many countries over the years, visiting many cities. And I’ve noticed that the cities in America are very different from the cities in other places I’ve visited. America is made up of people from different cultures. When people immigrated to America, they came to the cities. I can’t go ten feet in New York without hearing someone speak in a different language, or see a small mom-and-pop diner that guarantees food straight from one homeland or another. At the same time, everywhere I look in Silicon Valley there’s an Indian woman walking in her sari or an Asian mom speaking rapidly to her children in Korean before dropping them off at school. In America, the cities are inherently diverse communities, in terms of nationality as well as culture, values, and language.

The cities in Europe, however, are very different. They were created in a different time, when people mostly stayed where they were born. The people in many European cities are very similar: they look the same, dress the same, speak the same language. They don’t have the same obvious diversity that can be found in American cities. But that doesn’t mean that they aren’t cities. It’s simply a different experience.

Yijing Lu

Nanjing is a wonderland where my hometown located. I am, actually, extremely proud to introduce this city as my birthplace, because this beautiful city absorbs me deeply due to the fact that Nanjing is not only covered with atmosphere of long history and flourishing culture, but also full of scenic spots and historical sites where I visited for several times with my parents and friends when I was young. To be honest, I am a girl who loves to research Chinese culture and traditions. Thus, in this paper, I am willing to introduce this city from the perspective of history and culture, and, of course, the relationship to me.

Under the Edification of History

Nanjing is a historic city which was chosen as the capital of China in ten more dynasties during the whole Chinese history. (details are showed in the following form)

Due to the fact that Nanjing is carrying massive history, several main streets and roads in Nanjing are named after the Used Name of the City as a kind of commemoration of the long history, such as Jian Ye Road, Jian Kang Road, and so on. Every time when I walk on those roads, I think about the stories and the heroes of those dynasties, and feel that all the sceneries of the roads around me are covered with historical mystery.

           For me cities are a place of friendship, excitement, and adventure. By not growing up in a city, I believe my relationship to cities is much different than those who would consider a city their home. Although I live relatively close to the metropolis of San Francisco, I would never consider it as the place where I am from, but rather as the place I would visit to explore. My fondest memories of San Francisco are not of the Golden Gate Bridge, or of Lombard Street, but of my best friends apartment.

            Located on the corner of a park and across from a restaurant, this quaint little apartment filled up quite a few of my summer nights between the ages of nine and twelve. This little piece of San Francisco belonged to the family of my best friend Mathilda for four years as a second apartment while her stepfather was working in the city. We would take trips up to the city for weeks at a time to explore the art museums, enjoy theater performances, marvel at animals within the San Francisco Zoo, and experience the city for what it was, and what it had to offer.