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.
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