March 30, 2007
Honoring the anscestors
Honoring the ancestors:
Yesterday we rode our bikes to a village outside of town... where Jenny's mother, grandmother and great grandmother were born, grew-up and lived. We went to honor her grandfather who died seven years ago and to eat with the family.
in a wheat field beyond the village walls, under the pulsating power lines and in between two rows of parallel saplings a mound of dirt separates her grandfather from this world and this life. with a stick, the eldest daughter draws a circle around the grave through the wheat. the women place fruit: bananas, pineapple and mandarins, bread: cakes, cookies, and muffins on the mound. this is meant to feed the dead during the after life. on a large white paper they spread in the circle they pile money. There is an entire industry of honoring the dead. on every corner and at several stands in between you can buy fake money, photocopies of the real thing, crepe paper and all sorts of decorations. The "Money" is piled on the paper in the circle drawn in the wheat field by the eldest daughter. while the son and the nephew and the grandson shovel dirt on top of the mound the women light the paper and burn the money... they burn the money so that it reaches the dead so he can spend it in the after life. The fire blazes and flickers and licks at the living. Dirt is piled atop the mound. the grave is decorated with sticks, sparkling paper and shredded yellow paper. this is done every spring as summer is coming soon and this is meant to be a tree to shade the dead from the coming heat of summer. while the ashes smolder the food is broken into bite size pieces and scattered over the mound. The women finish with the arrangements here while the men move on to tend to the grave of grandfather's mother.
Jenny asks me about how we honor the dead in America... and i am left feeling lonely and a bit empty... because after the funeral there is no regular or formal process... at least in my family.
This family does this mourning and honoring of the dead several times throughout the year every year... during the Spring Festival in February, in April, and on Autumn Day. There is at least one more day, but Jenny can't remember when that is.
as i walked away from her grandfathers tomb, i honored my grandfather too who died just over two years ago. I burned money for him, in my mind and left food for him to eat. I said a prayer for him and i remembered him. I walked away from that tomb and honored my ancestors.
Yesterday we rode our bikes to a village outside of town... where Jenny's mother, grandmother and great grandmother were born, grew-up and lived. We went to honor her grandfather who died seven years ago and to eat with the family.
in a wheat field beyond the village walls, under the pulsating power lines and in between two rows of parallel saplings a mound of dirt separates her grandfather from this world and this life. with a stick, the eldest daughter draws a circle around the grave through the wheat. the women place fruit: bananas, pineapple and mandarins, bread: cakes, cookies, and muffins on the mound. this is meant to feed the dead during the after life. on a large white paper they spread in the circle they pile money. There is an entire industry of honoring the dead. on every corner and at several stands in between you can buy fake money, photocopies of the real thing, crepe paper and all sorts of decorations. The "Money" is piled on the paper in the circle drawn in the wheat field by the eldest daughter. while the son and the nephew and the grandson shovel dirt on top of the mound the women light the paper and burn the money... they burn the money so that it reaches the dead so he can spend it in the after life. The fire blazes and flickers and licks at the living. Dirt is piled atop the mound. the grave is decorated with sticks, sparkling paper and shredded yellow paper. this is done every spring as summer is coming soon and this is meant to be a tree to shade the dead from the coming heat of summer. while the ashes smolder the food is broken into bite size pieces and scattered over the mound. The women finish with the arrangements here while the men move on to tend to the grave of grandfather's mother.
Jenny asks me about how we honor the dead in America... and i am left feeling lonely and a bit empty... because after the funeral there is no regular or formal process... at least in my family.
This family does this mourning and honoring of the dead several times throughout the year every year... during the Spring Festival in February, in April, and on Autumn Day. There is at least one more day, but Jenny can't remember when that is.
as i walked away from her grandfathers tomb, i honored my grandfather too who died just over two years ago. I burned money for him, in my mind and left food for him to eat. I said a prayer for him and i remembered him. I walked away from that tomb and honored my ancestors.
March 29, 2007
All the places in China
create your own China map
The red areas are either places i have been or plan to be. The before and after. Try to match the provinces listed below with the map. I will have been to them all. Good Luck! you might need an atlas.
Beijing 北京 Guangdong 广东 Guangxi 广西 Hebei 河北 Hong Kong SAR 香港 Hubei 湖北 Hunan 湖南 Macau SAR 澳门 Neimonggol (Inner Mongolia) 内蒙古 Shaanxi 陕西 Shanghai 上海 Shanxi 山西 Sichuan 四川 Xizang (Tibet) 西藏 Yunnan 云南
all in a day... somewhere in the world
i have taken the train and traveled a day... but the journey has transported me much more than that... through time... and culture not only space. i am in a small village with a dear old friend from my previous visit... she is staying here with her grandmother... and i stay with them. in a house with few rooms... no bathroom... and no shower. we walk down the alley to a place... where you pee in a hole. i have done this before... but having just been properly spoiled in shanghai with expensive meals cab rides, manicures, make-overs and coffee shops in malls... and WIRELESS INTERNET... this is a shock. i am more of a spoiled wuss than i thought... maybe i am losing my edge.
and like all family they think the more food... the better... the more food eaten the more i like it... more served the more they like me... so there will be a constant battle... struggle with that... i can tell... grandmother is even more unrelenting than Jhon's mom... and his mom is good... so let the battle begin. i already have a full stomach from lunch. but i am happy to be here...
there have been moments over the last 36 hours that i really questioned what i am doing... thinking rather that i should go back to shanghai and be spoiled... or really just to find a little beach somewhere ... with wireless internet of course... or even with out... and just let the next 90 days drip by.
it is the middle of the night there because it is mid afternoon here... i am in an internet bar and the computers hum that high pitched squeal that only technological things and cicadas can do... the clattering of keys breaks the silence... and since i left my cousins house... he was the last foreign person i saw...i was the only foreigner on the train... and in the city i arrived in and certainly the only one in this town now. i think i might have been the last foreigner here... when i first came to visit 3 years ago.
either way everyone and their mother is looking at me... and not like in Colombia... but like, head out of window ... neck cranked... mouth open... slow drive by... kind of looking.
but i am usually just amused. maybe that is why i was not disturbed... hardly even noticed the staring in Colombia... because, comparatively, it was modest staring... and like we said... Jhon was getting two looks for every one i got. He was really who they were looking at... wondering how i managed to hook such a good looking handsome man. ... that is what they were wondering... gorda and the prince... now it is blondie in the asian sea.
i am feeling the strain of travel and thinking of spending more time in fewer places... moving around less. i forget that i have already been traveling for three months... almost... 3 continents... and i am just at the beginning... if my plans go as they are right now... i won't really be done for another seven months... and i don't know where i will call home after this... so i don't even know if it will be that soon. i really need to pace myself. this change is really hard. the constant culture adjustment... and just being without language... and so OBVIOUSLY out of place. i yearned for a foreign place where english was the native language. that thought amused me this morning as the train rumbled through the darkness grinding on the tracks. if that is what i really think then what the hell am i doing here and why do i keep throwing myself into these adventures? maybe it is not as simple as that. maybe that is just the instant reaction... seeking safety and comfort in the familiar.
and the truth is that some day I might actually have to get another job. Oh the HORROR. Perish the THOUGHT. never. NEVER> NEVER! you can't make me do it. i won't. (that was the typed version of my temper tantrum. You can imagine me kicking and screaming if you want... if that helps bring the moment alive for you.) but it certainly isn't that bad. i am actually aching for the classroom. i have regular email conversations with several former students... they ask me about my travels and chinese culture... i send lengthy emails. that sound like mini lessons. i send photos of things that interest them, like swords and McDonalds menus in chinese... and hello kitty stores... i yearn for the excitement and the reward of working that hard... and the invigoration of really connecting with young people who are still so full of life and hope and cynicism and dreams and frustration and energy that they simply don't know what to do with. i really get something... it is like they recharge my battery for life while draining the blood and essence... what i am trying to learn here ... learn this year... learn in this life, is how to teach well and be that vital person in their lives... without sacrificing myself in the process... if i can learn that.... well then... WOW. i do miss the classroom... and i miss the kids. i know that i have loved my kids... and i know that all kids are amazing... but i still have trouble believing that i can love new kids as much... how is it possible to care more than this...
so for now i will stay in a tiny town in a small house with a small family. i will eat HUGE meals that are meant to represent the amount of love they have for me and i will brush the dust off my sweater at the end of the day. the wind blows relentlessly here... always blows from the side. sweeping up the dust on the street and dropping the dust from the fields at the outer limits of town. So i will brush off the dust... and at the end of the day i will sleep. I will sleep on a bed of hard love. under a blanket of family ties and i will rest my head on a pillow of sand. time will slip past and i will brush off the sand.
and like all family they think the more food... the better... the more food eaten the more i like it... more served the more they like me... so there will be a constant battle... struggle with that... i can tell... grandmother is even more unrelenting than Jhon's mom... and his mom is good... so let the battle begin. i already have a full stomach from lunch. but i am happy to be here...
there have been moments over the last 36 hours that i really questioned what i am doing... thinking rather that i should go back to shanghai and be spoiled... or really just to find a little beach somewhere ... with wireless internet of course... or even with out... and just let the next 90 days drip by.
it is the middle of the night there because it is mid afternoon here... i am in an internet bar and the computers hum that high pitched squeal that only technological things and cicadas can do... the clattering of keys breaks the silence... and since i left my cousins house... he was the last foreign person i saw...i was the only foreigner on the train... and in the city i arrived in and certainly the only one in this town now. i think i might have been the last foreigner here... when i first came to visit 3 years ago.
either way everyone and their mother is looking at me... and not like in Colombia... but like, head out of window ... neck cranked... mouth open... slow drive by... kind of looking.
but i am usually just amused. maybe that is why i was not disturbed... hardly even noticed the staring in Colombia... because, comparatively, it was modest staring... and like we said... Jhon was getting two looks for every one i got. He was really who they were looking at... wondering how i managed to hook such a good looking handsome man. ... that is what they were wondering... gorda and the prince... now it is blondie in the asian sea.
i am feeling the strain of travel and thinking of spending more time in fewer places... moving around less. i forget that i have already been traveling for three months... almost... 3 continents... and i am just at the beginning... if my plans go as they are right now... i won't really be done for another seven months... and i don't know where i will call home after this... so i don't even know if it will be that soon. i really need to pace myself. this change is really hard. the constant culture adjustment... and just being without language... and so OBVIOUSLY out of place. i yearned for a foreign place where english was the native language. that thought amused me this morning as the train rumbled through the darkness grinding on the tracks. if that is what i really think then what the hell am i doing here and why do i keep throwing myself into these adventures? maybe it is not as simple as that. maybe that is just the instant reaction... seeking safety and comfort in the familiar.
and the truth is that some day I might actually have to get another job. Oh the HORROR. Perish the THOUGHT. never. NEVER> NEVER! you can't make me do it. i won't. (that was the typed version of my temper tantrum. You can imagine me kicking and screaming if you want... if that helps bring the moment alive for you.) but it certainly isn't that bad. i am actually aching for the classroom. i have regular email conversations with several former students... they ask me about my travels and chinese culture... i send lengthy emails. that sound like mini lessons. i send photos of things that interest them, like swords and McDonalds menus in chinese... and hello kitty stores... i yearn for the excitement and the reward of working that hard... and the invigoration of really connecting with young people who are still so full of life and hope and cynicism and dreams and frustration and energy that they simply don't know what to do with. i really get something... it is like they recharge my battery for life while draining the blood and essence... what i am trying to learn here ... learn this year... learn in this life, is how to teach well and be that vital person in their lives... without sacrificing myself in the process... if i can learn that.... well then... WOW. i do miss the classroom... and i miss the kids. i know that i have loved my kids... and i know that all kids are amazing... but i still have trouble believing that i can love new kids as much... how is it possible to care more than this...
so for now i will stay in a tiny town in a small house with a small family. i will eat HUGE meals that are meant to represent the amount of love they have for me and i will brush the dust off my sweater at the end of the day. the wind blows relentlessly here... always blows from the side. sweeping up the dust on the street and dropping the dust from the fields at the outer limits of town. So i will brush off the dust... and at the end of the day i will sleep. I will sleep on a bed of hard love. under a blanket of family ties and i will rest my head on a pillow of sand. time will slip past and i will brush off the sand.
March 26, 2007
March 25, 2007
ZhouZhuang
The village of ZhouZhuang is a jewel of history preserved in a land of orgiastic modernism, construction and development. Originally built in 1086, ZhouZhuang has been too often been described as "the Venice of China", "the number one water village of China" and the shining pearl of Shanghai". It is, however, despite the fancy names, truly beautiful, teleportive and fantastic. within moments centuries are washed away. The small village has been well preserved and is renowned for having numerous buildings dating back to the Ming and Qing Dynasties. (Ming Dynasty 1368-1644; Qing Dynasty 1644-1911)There could be a chronological paradigm if one chose to focus on all the cameras, video cameras and tourist groups scrambling after flag toting guides, but if choosing to ignore and avoid them, it is possible to be immersed and steeped in time and calm.
Washing hangs to dry, shoes are put on windowsills in allies and girls wash each others hair in the river. boats pass by, women sing while paddling. open restaurants sit vacant with fish swimming in tanks, miniature lobster crawling in bowls and vegetables spread out in buckets on the street. Women sit knitting in boats while they rest from a days work. men play cards in allies. in a red plastic bag resting on some stone steps of a bridge three fish flop helplessly and then rest and again flop frantically.
This day, as I imagine thousands of others, passed without incident. Life, like the river, keeps on flowing smoothly.
the ride
for those who can't be troubled to walk there is always another option. hoards of old men and women earn their living ferrying tourists to the gate of the old village. the work is tremendous, the effort is monumental and the pay is barely nothing.
and the day ended as it had begun
The haze sucked up the light and the day melted back into the colorless forms of water and sky. the city still whirled and honked as the day quieted and the people all made their way home with trinkets and decorations. tourists climbed aboard buses with rolling engines. cars thunder across bridges, bike carriages trudged along roads and up hills. lights were turned on in a twinkling spasm as the sun was reclaimed by the haze and disappeared into the horizon. the day was over and the night had begun. it all starts and ends in a haze. 
March 24, 2007
Korean food and Pineapple
so there is proof that i am eating well and frequently. We went out to celebrate my cousins DJ debut. food, food and more food. delicious Korean feast with wonderful people.
and the pineapples are cut like this on street corners. it is an art in itself and it make delicious taste even better.
March 23, 2007
"Protect Circum Stance begin with me"
If you are able to discern meaning from this trash can, please help me... because i am totally dumbfounded. i do love translations though.
and to add to the list of things that never happen in China: my train was late today... and so we all stood on the platform looking completely dumbfounded (i think i like that word today). Honestly no one knew what to do. the train jut wasn't there. it did eventually arrive to everyone's relief... otherwise we would all probably still be just standing there with that glazed look on our faces
My friend Curtis
Two former teachers from XCEL Academy meet in China for a day of wandering, history and food. what a delight. we both say: "hi-ay to all the kids" Really wish you were here with us.
March 21, 2007
alive in the city
the city lights of Shanghai glow and hordes of people want to sell me things. they see my blond hair and my camera out to take this picture and they come like bees to honey, but tonight i am sour honey... more like a light bulb... moth to the flame. the lights illuminate the sky and fuel me. they light my heart before i crawl into the subway and zip around town, make my way back to my cousins house and show up an hour late cause i wanted to take " a new route" home. what i learned yesterday is, because Shanghai is not built on a grid, that means get lost. i was so pleased that i had navigated for two days by myself that i wanted to try a new way. and i ended up so far away. no one i spoke to even knew the streets i was looking for and i wondered how far lost do you have to be where it is too far to turn back and kept walking, only getting further and further from a recognizable location. Lost in China at night is truly an experience. but i always knew if i really gave up i could hope in a taxi and someone else could sort out how to get me home. but i prevailed. I did it. of course I was so far from where i had been trying to go... that is the difference between a well timed right versus a left.... i guess. but no harm was done. our dinner date was even later than i was so it really all worked out and now i know more about my cousin's neighborhood than he does.
In case you worry that i miss home
Never fear Home is RIGHT HERE. ever where i turn i see a bastardized version of home, of the familiar and of america, staring back at me through foreign eyes. it is almost home which is maybe what is so disorienting about it. it is not home... it is not even the familiar, but it feels like it, or it is perceived as such. it is virtual home... it is virtually home with a few important changes... and a total loss of self.
it is helpful to see american culture through the lens of a foreign reality. there is no veil of disillusion left when you are looking at it bare and unabashedly displayed. blatant. maybe these are the eyes i should be seeing through all the time. but the locals cant see it the way, it is a foreigners view. it has to be.
God bless America.
the city skyscape
i am not sure which is the more common sight, the distinctive shape and silhouette of the Pearl Tower, or the crown of people looking and wandering about.
March 18, 2007
I am not surprised.
One week in Shanghai … I am still not surprised by the near misses when our taxi speeds and veers only barely missing on coming traffic in a seemingly equal disarray on the elevated roads. I am still not surprised when after two days of planning, a traipse across the city and a standard wait in line we discover at the ticket counter that there are no tickets remaining for any of the trains leaving for our destination. I am not surprised when, during a wander through the park we are addressed in English by every Chinese person eager to have a discussion in English to learn “where are you from, do you study in China, how long have you been in Shanghai, how tall are you, how much do you weigh, do you want to talk to me, we are best friends, right?” all asked in quick succession. I am not surprised that I got charged 10 times too much for a food treat from a street stall. I am not surprised that I didn’t even notice at the time… because of the suffocating and disorienting crowds that ebb and flow along the streets. I am not surprised that after six days I feel like I have never lived anywhere else and that at the same time I have never wanted to return to Colombia so much. I have never wanted to go home… so much. I am not surprised.On Sunday, because our plans to go to Suzhou and get out of the city where thwarted, we went to the city planning exhibition near People’s Square in downtown. In case you want to see what the city will look like in 2010. For the most part it already looks like that. Huge. Sprawling. Immense. Almost elegant in miniature model form. The exhibit was truly impressive, but with all things after four stories and so many more displays I got burned out. There is only so much a girl can see in one day. And it is not like the city streets themselves aren’t a banquet for the senses- one that I choke on some times.
March 14, 2007
I take it all back & the Southern Barbarian
In just over 24 hours in Shanghai I have faced many challenges to my previous assumptions of this place. Based on my original trip to China I formed some opinions and formed some understandings.
I would like to correct myself now.
I met a wonderful young woman last night, a friend of my cousin, from England. She went out with us to a terrific Dim Sum place with red walls and all sorts of high society types. After dinner she was on her way to a wine and cheese party with some South African blokes she had met on a beach in Vietnam. (This sounds like the beginning of a geography joke.) But really she was on her way to a wine and cheese party; that always seems so mature and sophisticated. But this lead me to face a new reality that had previously eluded me.
I had previously been under the impression that for some reason, beyond my comprehension, there was no cheese in China. Aside from the fact that I really like the way those words sound, “no cheese in China” and the way they feel to say, “no cheese in China.” I regret to announce that there is in fact cheese in China, at least in Shanghai. On the other hand, being an avid lover of cheese, I am pleased. (now I sound like Dr. Suess)
While waiting for a taxi I was again forced to revise my schemata. During all my time in China and from all that I knew everything pointed to one truth. There are no big dogs in China. There is even a law in China restricting the size of pet dogs. There are many logical reasons for this as much as we can think it is ridiculous… And all my observations during my previous four months here supported that. I saw countless people will little dogs riding in their bicycle baskets, sitting on door steps and carried in bags at the train station, but never once did I see a big dog. Not until last night. A woman was exiting a taxi, but there seemed to be some commotion and a struggle getting out of the cab. It turned out that she was trying to get out without loosing control of her Golden Retriever who was frantically and excitedly trying to sneak out.
A young woman met the older woman and the door of the cab, took hold of the dog and then everything calmed down. The woman got out of the cab and all returned to normal, but I still haven’t gotten over the shock of seeing a big dog in China.
There have been several more mind blowing alterations to my perception of reality lately, but of course they are not coming to mind at this particular moment. But to further illustrate my point, at dinner tonight I discovered a delectable treat… fried goat cheese with salt and pepper. We traversed the city in the drenching rain for a restaurant... well worth the trip and deserving of the name... The Southern Barbarian, Yunnan food. But oh the cheese! I can’t begin to capture the bliss of that flavor in words… but I will attempt it anyway. Warm. Crisp yet soft; salty sweet and comforting. Eaten with chopsticks. An amusing sight. The warmth soften the taste buds and softens the soul. It calms the mind and opens the heart. Eyes roll back. It is good.
So there is cheese. Not only have I heard of its existence, I have seen it with my own eyes and tasted it with my entire being. What I have come to learn is that although it is here, it is not cheap. Maybe that explains why I did not discover it in my previous travels as I was traveling in a different economic sphere that time. Today I find myself with foreigners, working and wealth, fancy meals, cab rides and exquisite housing accommodations. So cheese may only exist for certain classes, or maybe Shanghai is chic enough to be the cheese capitol of China. But let it be known, I am on the case and will not rest until I have gotten to the bottom of this pressing question. And if that means I have to eat more of that fried goat cheese with salt and pepper, so be it. I will not rest until I know the history of cheese in China.
…
I suppose that I am learning that I don’t know everything, quite a shock to you and me I am sure… but I thought I had spent enough time here on my first to gather a fairly accurate perception of the country. Having never been to Shanghai I did not know what to expect, but I didn’t imagine that it would be drastically different than the rest of China. I have been proven wrong. There are both big dogs and cheese in China.
Just imagine what I have yet to discover!
I would like to correct myself now.
I met a wonderful young woman last night, a friend of my cousin, from England. She went out with us to a terrific Dim Sum place with red walls and all sorts of high society types. After dinner she was on her way to a wine and cheese party with some South African blokes she had met on a beach in Vietnam. (This sounds like the beginning of a geography joke.) But really she was on her way to a wine and cheese party; that always seems so mature and sophisticated. But this lead me to face a new reality that had previously eluded me.
I had previously been under the impression that for some reason, beyond my comprehension, there was no cheese in China. Aside from the fact that I really like the way those words sound, “no cheese in China” and the way they feel to say, “no cheese in China.” I regret to announce that there is in fact cheese in China, at least in Shanghai. On the other hand, being an avid lover of cheese, I am pleased. (now I sound like Dr. Suess)
While waiting for a taxi I was again forced to revise my schemata. During all my time in China and from all that I knew everything pointed to one truth. There are no big dogs in China. There is even a law in China restricting the size of pet dogs. There are many logical reasons for this as much as we can think it is ridiculous… And all my observations during my previous four months here supported that. I saw countless people will little dogs riding in their bicycle baskets, sitting on door steps and carried in bags at the train station, but never once did I see a big dog. Not until last night. A woman was exiting a taxi, but there seemed to be some commotion and a struggle getting out of the cab. It turned out that she was trying to get out without loosing control of her Golden Retriever who was frantically and excitedly trying to sneak out.
A young woman met the older woman and the door of the cab, took hold of the dog and then everything calmed down. The woman got out of the cab and all returned to normal, but I still haven’t gotten over the shock of seeing a big dog in China.
There have been several more mind blowing alterations to my perception of reality lately, but of course they are not coming to mind at this particular moment. But to further illustrate my point, at dinner tonight I discovered a delectable treat… fried goat cheese with salt and pepper. We traversed the city in the drenching rain for a restaurant... well worth the trip and deserving of the name... The Southern Barbarian, Yunnan food. But oh the cheese! I can’t begin to capture the bliss of that flavor in words… but I will attempt it anyway. Warm. Crisp yet soft; salty sweet and comforting. Eaten with chopsticks. An amusing sight. The warmth soften the taste buds and softens the soul. It calms the mind and opens the heart. Eyes roll back. It is good.
So there is cheese. Not only have I heard of its existence, I have seen it with my own eyes and tasted it with my entire being. What I have come to learn is that although it is here, it is not cheap. Maybe that explains why I did not discover it in my previous travels as I was traveling in a different economic sphere that time. Today I find myself with foreigners, working and wealth, fancy meals, cab rides and exquisite housing accommodations. So cheese may only exist for certain classes, or maybe Shanghai is chic enough to be the cheese capitol of China. But let it be known, I am on the case and will not rest until I have gotten to the bottom of this pressing question. And if that means I have to eat more of that fried goat cheese with salt and pepper, so be it. I will not rest until I know the history of cheese in China.
…
I suppose that I am learning that I don’t know everything, quite a shock to you and me I am sure… but I thought I had spent enough time here on my first to gather a fairly accurate perception of the country. Having never been to Shanghai I did not know what to expect, but I didn’t imagine that it would be drastically different than the rest of China. I have been proven wrong. There are both big dogs and cheese in China.
Just imagine what I have yet to discover!
March 13, 2007
Waking up in Shanghai
Even from the atmospheric viewpoint all the way up here on the 16th floor, I wake up to the opera of car horns, sirens and the occasional shout. The city dances below us through the notoriously thick air. The haze, like a curtain that has been drawn in front of my windows, lies heavy on the city.
Now my computer battery will die and I only just realize that the power converters I have are no good and don’t fit. So glad I brought them…. Te he. (laugh)
Hours later the problem is solved. I am connected again and feeling much better. I have had my first Chinese lesson and realized that with enough time I will be able to learn anything.
Most of this day has been spent studying Chinese, writing and eating breakfast witch was just the leftovers from dinner. The day was punctuated by a midmorning nap where again I slept like life depended on it. My cousin came home at one pm on his lunch break to bring me a key to the flat. That provided motivation to rise yet again and take on the rest of the first day in China which has been comprised of a shower, from which I feel refreshed and invigorated, a snack and a wander around the neighborhood. I haven’t managed to leave the living room yet, but have high hopes. I find that often when I travel great distances the first day is spent with minimum of movement. I think of this as time for my brain to catch up with my body. And it feels that way literally. After traveling at 1400 miles at tremendous ground speeds it is only reasonable to expect that not everything will be able to catch up. So this first day is time to gather myself.
The sun is coming out and the haze is thinning enough to make the city look inviting, but apparently it is quite cold out there.
It is midnight at home and just four in the afternoon here. The light is helpful in convincing my body what time it is and what I should be doing, but there is still a strong urge to return to the dark places under the duvet and get lost in the chaos of thoughts that works its self out as I sleep.
To ward off sleep I know that eventually I will have to go out, but I feel a strange urge now that I have traveled across the world, to just stay home. Is this me… ? Am I weird as a result of this? Any one want to take bets as to whether I will in fact leave the building today?
Now my computer battery will die and I only just realize that the power converters I have are no good and don’t fit. So glad I brought them…. Te he. (laugh)
Hours later the problem is solved. I am connected again and feeling much better. I have had my first Chinese lesson and realized that with enough time I will be able to learn anything.
Most of this day has been spent studying Chinese, writing and eating breakfast witch was just the leftovers from dinner. The day was punctuated by a midmorning nap where again I slept like life depended on it. My cousin came home at one pm on his lunch break to bring me a key to the flat. That provided motivation to rise yet again and take on the rest of the first day in China which has been comprised of a shower, from which I feel refreshed and invigorated, a snack and a wander around the neighborhood. I haven’t managed to leave the living room yet, but have high hopes. I find that often when I travel great distances the first day is spent with minimum of movement. I think of this as time for my brain to catch up with my body. And it feels that way literally. After traveling at 1400 miles at tremendous ground speeds it is only reasonable to expect that not everything will be able to catch up. So this first day is time to gather myself.
The sun is coming out and the haze is thinning enough to make the city look inviting, but apparently it is quite cold out there.
It is midnight at home and just four in the afternoon here. The light is helpful in convincing my body what time it is and what I should be doing, but there is still a strong urge to return to the dark places under the duvet and get lost in the chaos of thoughts that works its self out as I sleep.
To ward off sleep I know that eventually I will have to go out, but I feel a strange urge now that I have traveled across the world, to just stay home. Is this me… ? Am I weird as a result of this? Any one want to take bets as to whether I will in fact leave the building today?
March 12, 2007
All my bags are packed, I am ready to go… Leavin’ on a get plane.
Sunday morning greeted me with an unexpected time change and many final details to arrange and a plane to catch. With every one of these massive international departures I get a little better at being physically and mentally ready for it. I would like to think that the things that still remain undone… will cause no harm and that the countless possession I have recently released into the universe (by leaving them on the street corner in San Francisco where they are promptly adopted and put to good use as junk in yet another unsuspecting house, devoured like ants devour a carcuss) will not be missed. And most of all I hope that the stress, anticipation, anxiety, excitement and exhaustion I feel is not expressed as bitchiness to those around me, especially those taking me to the airport and helping me get the last details arranged. I know there have been several occasions where I was absolutely horrible to the dear people who delivered me on my journey…
Example: the day after graduating from college I had a flight from Boston to Europe where I would start my first such trip. This first one would be modest, six weeks in Europe, but I was still planning to travel alone, spoke only my native language and had not really even yet realized that I had graduated from college, that my life up to that point had been fulfilled and that now there was no obligation or structure… that I now had to sort it all out. We can all fantasize about how great it would be to feel like that again… but that is because we are very forgetful creatures. From my own experience and that of many others of my generation I want to claim the year after college as being some of the hardest times. And maybe I will go into that more later… but the point being that I was about to hop onto a plane, travel half way around the world to unknown lands, languages and a world of people that sort of terrified me… just because it was exactly that unknown.
Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess that morning too, so much so that I didn’t even know it. My grandmother and my mother drove me the two hours to the Boston Airport. That drive is among the top worst moments of my behavior in life. I don’t know what I said or what I did, but I know that I was just terrible. The drive was a blur, but what is still so clear in my memory is the moment I heard the car door close behind me, my feet were on the concrete and my pack hung heavy on my shoulders. The whole world was out of focus except for the ten feet or so I occupied and the car drove away. I feel like I stood there forever. I must have moved. I was trapped in a moment of “what the fuck am I going to do now.” a feeling that came to many times during that year and a number of times since. But in that moment I was first aware of the fear I felt and of the terrible way I had just treated my family.
Hopefully that part of my traveling habit is over.
So this time felt smooth. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. After a healthy waiting period in the airport I boarded a plane the size of a cruise ship. I squeezed in between two healthy American men with their magazines and entertainment gadgets for a 13 hour flight over the pole and though days. 12 hours of mind-numbing movies, a punctuated nap and a few typically foul airplane meals later I set foot on Chinese soil where it was more than a day and a half later. Time for dinner. Although my body thought it was 5 am.
I made my way easily through customs, collected my luggage and was met by a friend. We were whisked off in a taxi to her apartment. The airport is built on the edge of where the marsh meets the water and we drove over marsh land forever until we reached the Pudong district of Shanghai. I was almost blinded by the surreal quality of the life here. My friend is the mother of a life-long friend from Vermont. She moved here in September with her youngest son to teach at an American school here. The apartment comes with the teaching contract and is exquisite: spacious, elegant, clean, and quiet. If this is the simple life, sign me up. We drank tea and talked for a while then I made my way into the heart of the city to meet my cousin who also happened to be living here. He has recently graduated from art school in England and is now a graphic designer for a small company based here in Shanghai. We catch up with each other over my favorite Chinese dishes. We hadn’t seen each other in the two years since our grandfather’s funeral… but he has always been of my favorite cousins. In a family of men there a few women. I am the oldest of 17 cousins most of them male. Of the clan I am the only only child so it is nice to find someone I can claim as family. I have adopted some cousins and a few friends as honorary family members. Now I have siblings too.
Early into the evening, just before I have no more energy, we settle into his comfortable flat on the 16th floor. I crawl into the sleeping loft and sink into the haze that has been creeping into my bones and from behind my eyelids for many hours now. The sleep sweeps me away, like jumping into a pool. There was no hesitation and no going back.
Example: the day after graduating from college I had a flight from Boston to Europe where I would start my first such trip. This first one would be modest, six weeks in Europe, but I was still planning to travel alone, spoke only my native language and had not really even yet realized that I had graduated from college, that my life up to that point had been fulfilled and that now there was no obligation or structure… that I now had to sort it all out. We can all fantasize about how great it would be to feel like that again… but that is because we are very forgetful creatures. From my own experience and that of many others of my generation I want to claim the year after college as being some of the hardest times. And maybe I will go into that more later… but the point being that I was about to hop onto a plane, travel half way around the world to unknown lands, languages and a world of people that sort of terrified me… just because it was exactly that unknown.
Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess that morning too, so much so that I didn’t even know it. My grandmother and my mother drove me the two hours to the Boston Airport. That drive is among the top worst moments of my behavior in life. I don’t know what I said or what I did, but I know that I was just terrible. The drive was a blur, but what is still so clear in my memory is the moment I heard the car door close behind me, my feet were on the concrete and my pack hung heavy on my shoulders. The whole world was out of focus except for the ten feet or so I occupied and the car drove away. I feel like I stood there forever. I must have moved. I was trapped in a moment of “what the fuck am I going to do now.” a feeling that came to many times during that year and a number of times since. But in that moment I was first aware of the fear I felt and of the terrible way I had just treated my family.
Hopefully that part of my traveling habit is over.
So this time felt smooth. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. After a healthy waiting period in the airport I boarded a plane the size of a cruise ship. I squeezed in between two healthy American men with their magazines and entertainment gadgets for a 13 hour flight over the pole and though days. 12 hours of mind-numbing movies, a punctuated nap and a few typically foul airplane meals later I set foot on Chinese soil where it was more than a day and a half later. Time for dinner. Although my body thought it was 5 am.
I made my way easily through customs, collected my luggage and was met by a friend. We were whisked off in a taxi to her apartment. The airport is built on the edge of where the marsh meets the water and we drove over marsh land forever until we reached the Pudong district of Shanghai. I was almost blinded by the surreal quality of the life here. My friend is the mother of a life-long friend from Vermont. She moved here in September with her youngest son to teach at an American school here. The apartment comes with the teaching contract and is exquisite: spacious, elegant, clean, and quiet. If this is the simple life, sign me up. We drank tea and talked for a while then I made my way into the heart of the city to meet my cousin who also happened to be living here. He has recently graduated from art school in England and is now a graphic designer for a small company based here in Shanghai. We catch up with each other over my favorite Chinese dishes. We hadn’t seen each other in the two years since our grandfather’s funeral… but he has always been of my favorite cousins. In a family of men there a few women. I am the oldest of 17 cousins most of them male. Of the clan I am the only only child so it is nice to find someone I can claim as family. I have adopted some cousins and a few friends as honorary family members. Now I have siblings too.
Early into the evening, just before I have no more energy, we settle into his comfortable flat on the 16th floor. I crawl into the sleeping loft and sink into the haze that has been creeping into my bones and from behind my eyelids for many hours now. The sleep sweeps me away, like jumping into a pool. There was no hesitation and no going back.
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