I know I said that the last post would be my last... and it was... for China. For anyone who is interested, I am now keeping a record of my attempts to write a second musical. You can find it at http://fallofusher.blogspot.com/
-Mike
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Trip Report and Final Blog
What humbly follows is the best and most completely comprehensive record of the end-of-semester trip taken in April 2008 by the students of the Beijing Institute for Asian Studies. It begins at the beginning, ends at the end, and, when the still recent memories fail, it makes sweeping generalizations about probabilities of both locations and actions. To assist in the telling, the narrative will be accompanied by colorful photos.
Top right: Will Bottom left: Alice
We took a sleeper train from Beijing to Xi’an
The layout ofXi’an was a little more open than Beijing
Our first major event was to climb up and explore the Xi’an city wall- an enormous defensive structure thirty feet thick and something like five or six miles around. The only logical thing was to bike around it. My friend Han and I rented a tandem bike for the usual ridiculously low American price and got around at least half of the wall in the hour and a half that we were given to explore. We even got a very unsafe but very cool video of biking down the wall that can be viewed here.
Han and I taking a break from trying to kill ourselves
with a tandem bike
(The paper says FAIL and then has arrows pointing to two
buses with the captions "right bus" and "you.")
How do you know that Will is a math major?
He points out something that is absolutely true and, at the same time, completely useless.
You don't go to Xi'an without visiting the terracotta soldiers. Located in a series of three enormous aircraft-hanger-esque buildings, the soldiers were neither as plentiful nor as impressive as we had been expecting. When something is hyped as one of the wonders of the world, though, awe-failure is practically mandatory. Everything seemed old enough, but after hearing so much about the individually carved soldiers and the glorious individual personification of each one, they seemed a little too cookie-cutter.
Jesse, Maria and I still had a fun time looking for
abnormally shaped soldiers.
Just out of the frame, on the left, is a thirty foot high statue of Mao.
We arrived at the Chengdu Panda Research Center right around 9:00AM, so that we could see feeding time. Pandas, let it be known, are EXACTLY as cute as you think they are. They even have little opposable-thumb-like-things so they can eat bamboo like they're holding an ice cream cone. Then they rip into the stalk with their extremely powerful jaws and you remember that, while they are cute, it's probably best that there is a wall and a moat between the two of you.
There were photo opportunities that allowed you to spend 500 kuai ($75) for a picture with your arm around a big panda. I could get within twenty feet for free, so I passed.
After the Panda center, we had some free time with which we went to Jinli Street. It was here that I purchased my first Chinese instrument, the Hulusi. It literally translates as "silk gourd" and combines the tone of the clarinet with the drones of the bagpipe. My perfect instrument, really.
The next morning we went to the Wenshu Monastery, a Buddhist temple built over 1000 years ago. It contained quite a bit of history, Buddha sculptures, and buildings, but we were mostly occupied watching the turtles in the turtle pond.
Turtles.
This is the garden behind a Chinese rest-stop.
Like, a gas station. Seriously.
And he is enormous.
I have an inexplicable urge to take this picture with every cannon I see. I might have around twenty pictures of me with my head in a cannon. One of these days, that's going to be a bad idea.
Nell and I finally caught up with Ben and Hillary, and we insisted on having pictures taken in front of the most immense sprawl of greenery that we had yet witnessed in China. Looking at this picture back in the US, the effect is perhaps less impressive.
Coming down from the mountain of the Buddha, we passed a sugar-cane vendor. This is, you know, normal in China. What we didn't know is that you're supposed to strip off the diamond-hard green part of the sugar-cane to get to the sugary stuff inside. So immediately after this picture was taken, I was in a great deal of pain.
We went back to Chengdu that day, and the next morning flew into Kunming, in the Yunnan province. In the airport we were greeted by this sign:
Well... good.
Jesse and I point out that we are, in fact, on a lake.
"Child's beard have results to show a person to lead a square..."
Well duh.
Finally, a place in China that was just pretty and green and blue.
That's not a gigantic and scary person in the water, by the way.
It's a statue.
And Nell is in between.
Our final destination was an ancient town called Lijiang, where we were to stay for three days visiting happy national minorities and watching them sing and dance, just as we heard they love to do. Also on the itinerary: a giant mountain called "Yulong Snow Mountain" and two relatively free days to adventure as we pleased (and we certainly did).
Our hotel was located right in the ancient town, so right outside our door we were able to buy pineapple halves and other assorted fruits, as well as wander down the skinny pedestrian streets and look at the ubiquitous shops and restaurants. At one of these restaurants, Will, Jesse and I stopped and dined on the finest braised eggplant (still my favorite Chinese food). Afterwards, Will and I went to another restaurant and tried, apprehensively, some Yunnan province red wine. To our complete and utter surprise, this wine actually tasted like wine, and so we happily remained there for several hours.
(Note: in retrospect (retrospect=America) I have realized that the Yunnan wine was pretty bad itself, but in comparison to the other wines of China, it was downright amazing.)
The following morning (April 22nd, for those who are keeping track), it was time to visit the Yulong Snow Mountain. On our way, we stopped at a Naxi village to see some...
...national minority singing and dancing. Figures.
And actual Yak! Incidentally, if you find yourself in a field of Yak...
Don't stand near one. It may charge you.
Not that that happened.
I was perfectly safe.
Sort of.
Yulong Snow Mountain- Pretty Darn Big
Will and Me at Tiger Leaping Gorge
I apologize that the extremely large rock is not in this picture.
But I swear, it's there, and it's extremely large.
Seven and a half hours after our trip began, we finally beheld what Shangri-la was all about.
On the five hour bus ride back from Shangri-la
One last look at Shaoyuan 5
Top right: Will Bottom left: Alice
We arrived in
The layout of
Our first major event was to climb up and explore the Xi’an city wall- an enormous defensive structure thirty feet thick and something like five or six miles around. The only logical thing was to bike around it. My friend Han and I rented a tandem bike for the usual ridiculously low American price and got around at least half of the wall in the hour and a half that we were given to explore. We even got a very unsafe but very cool video of biking down the wall that can be viewed here.
Han and I taking a break from trying to kill ourselveswith a tandem bike
For the trip, in addition to teams of seven, we were also assigned into two buses. After the trip to the Xi’an
(The paper says FAIL and then has arrows pointing to twobuses with the captions "right bus" and "you.")
How do you know that Will is a math major?
He points out something that is absolutely true and, at the same time, completely useless.
You don't go to Xi'an without visiting the terracotta soldiers. Located in a series of three enormous aircraft-hanger-esque buildings, the soldiers were neither as plentiful nor as impressive as we had been expecting. When something is hyped as one of the wonders of the world, though, awe-failure is practically mandatory. Everything seemed old enough, but after hearing so much about the individually carved soldiers and the glorious individual personification of each one, they seemed a little too cookie-cutter.
Jesse, Maria and I still had a fun time looking forabnormally shaped soldiers.
After Xi'an, our next step was a flight to Chengdu; a part of Szhechuan. You know- where the spicy comes from. In its infinite kindness, the program saw fit to get us a hotel with an awesome view of a park in the downtown area.
Just out of the frame, on the left, is a thirty foot high statue of Mao.We enjoyed wandering through this park and seeing the fountains and gardens. It was late, and we were hungry, so a big group of us went out to find someplace to eat. Will, Jesse, and I found an establishment which we believed to be cheap and suitable, but the others felt that it was too "sketchy" and went along their merry way. It was really too bad for them, because they weren't able to enjoy our delicious pot of...
...random meats and vegetables soaked in unbearably hot mystery-sauce.
I won't go into details, but the next morning was the first of two times on this trip that I was nearly incapacitated by foodstuffs. The above picture fills me with more fear and dread than I could have previously imagined.
When the sun rose, I rolled out of bed for the only thing that could have possibly motivated me at that time: cute and cuddly pandas.
When the sun rose, I rolled out of bed for the only thing that could have possibly motivated me at that time: cute and cuddly pandas.
We arrived at the Chengdu Panda Research Center right around 9:00AM, so that we could see feeding time. Pandas, let it be known, are EXACTLY as cute as you think they are. They even have little opposable-thumb-like-things so they can eat bamboo like they're holding an ice cream cone. Then they rip into the stalk with their extremely powerful jaws and you remember that, while they are cute, it's probably best that there is a wall and a moat between the two of you.
There were photo opportunities that allowed you to spend 500 kuai ($75) for a picture with your arm around a big panda. I could get within twenty feet for free, so I passed.
After the Panda center, we had some free time with which we went to Jinli Street. It was here that I purchased my first Chinese instrument, the Hulusi. It literally translates as "silk gourd" and combines the tone of the clarinet with the drones of the bagpipe. My perfect instrument, really.
The next morning we went to the Wenshu Monastery, a Buddhist temple built over 1000 years ago. It contained quite a bit of history, Buddha sculptures, and buildings, but we were mostly occupied watching the turtles in the turtle pond.
Turtles.It seemed as though the only object in these turtles' lives was to climb to the top of this rock and stay there for as long as possible. When hundreds of turtles are trying to do this at the same time, it makes for some interesting slow-motion fights and plenty of epic tumbles into the merciless waters below. I think that the turtles taught me far more than I could have learned by actually looking around the monastery.
After lunch, which was entirely vegetarian but made to simulate the taste and texture of meat (which was interesting), we boarded our bus to travel to Leshan.
After lunch, which was entirely vegetarian but made to simulate the taste and texture of meat (which was interesting), we boarded our bus to travel to Leshan.
This is the garden behind a Chinese rest-stop. Like, a gas station. Seriously.
Now, the only reason that one goes to Leshan is to see the biggest Buddha in the world. As the story goes, in the early 700's a Buddhist monk called Hai Tong decided that people needed protection from three rivers converging tempestuously at one point in Leshan. He spent twenty years wandering around gathering money for a project to carve a Buddha out of the side of a mountain in order to protect the area. After he had raised enough money, corrupt city officials came to him with an eye to take the money for themselves. When Hai Tong saw this, he defiantly told the officials that they could sooner have his eye than the Buddha's money. With that statement, Hai Tong actually tore his own eye out with his bare hands and handed it to the officials. The officials were justifiably scared out of their minds, and they ran off, allowing Hai Tong to begin the 90 year process of carving the Buddha.
And thirteen-hundred years later, the Buddha still watches over the rivers.
And thirteen-hundred years later, the Buddha still watches over the rivers.
And he is enormous.Just as impressive, I think, is the complex of parks and temples that surround the Buddha. Nell and I got lost trying to find the way out, and we stumbled upon some 14th century defensive works built along the side of the mountain, just in case the Buddha decided to drop his watchful eyes for a moment.
I have an inexplicable urge to take this picture with every cannon I see. I might have around twenty pictures of me with my head in a cannon. One of these days, that's going to be a bad idea.
Nell and I finally caught up with Ben and Hillary, and we insisted on having pictures taken in front of the most immense sprawl of greenery that we had yet witnessed in China. Looking at this picture back in the US, the effect is perhaps less impressive.
Coming down from the mountain of the Buddha, we passed a sugar-cane vendor. This is, you know, normal in China. What we didn't know is that you're supposed to strip off the diamond-hard green part of the sugar-cane to get to the sugary stuff inside. So immediately after this picture was taken, I was in a great deal of pain.
Well... good.Kunming is famous for its nearby stone forest. There were initially plans to go to this forest, but those had to be abandoned due to a sudden onset of laziness and trip-fatigue.
Our only scheduled stop in Kunming was at Yunnan University, China's equivalent (so they told us) to our Stanford. Because of the great ethnic diversity in the Yunnan province, we were to be treated to a lecture by a leading anthropologist about some of these minority groups.
The actual lecture is painful to recall, but here is what I took away from it: hooray for the American education system, and three cheers for academic accountability. We were privileged enough to listen through about ten minutes of description for each of Yunnan's 26 (the number is listed at 28 in the downstairs museum) ethnic minorities (though they prefer to be called "national minorities" since they are part of China and there is but one China). To paraphrase:
The Naxi tribe number 36,431 people. They live in the northwest corner of the province. They have a pictorial written language. They have a primitive religion. They enjoy to sing and dance.
The Bai tribe number 12,554. They live in the southwest corner of the province. They are called "bai" because "bai" means "white" and they are generally light-skinned. They have a primitive religion. They enjoy to sing and dance.
At the end of the lecture, we were allowed to ask questions. A (paraphrased, again) sampling:
Question: How easy is it to get to the island of the (insert national minority here) people?
Answer: Oh, it is very easy. It is very close to here. I do not know exactly, I have never been there.
Question: With all of these minorities living in such close proximity to one another, were there ever any conflicts in this region? Or do conflicts arise now with the Han majority?
Answer: Oh no. There is no problems. The national minorities all love being Chinese. All of them. There have never been any problems.
(silence)
Question: Is the government doing anything to preserve the languages of any of these groups, as their numbers shrink?
Answer: No. The government does not see a reason to do this. After all, we are all Chinese. We encourage the groups to maintain their heritage by wearing their traditional clothing and singing and dancing. This is how we maintain diversity.
Sometimes there are just no words....
The next stop on our trip was Dali, the cradle of culture for many national minorities in China. After another overnight train trip, we all climbed on board a tour boat to putter around Erhai lake for a while.
Our only scheduled stop in Kunming was at Yunnan University, China's equivalent (so they told us) to our Stanford. Because of the great ethnic diversity in the Yunnan province, we were to be treated to a lecture by a leading anthropologist about some of these minority groups.
The actual lecture is painful to recall, but here is what I took away from it: hooray for the American education system, and three cheers for academic accountability. We were privileged enough to listen through about ten minutes of description for each of Yunnan's 26 (the number is listed at 28 in the downstairs museum) ethnic minorities (though they prefer to be called "national minorities" since they are part of China and there is but one China). To paraphrase:
The Naxi tribe number 36,431 people. They live in the northwest corner of the province. They have a pictorial written language. They have a primitive religion. They enjoy to sing and dance.
The Bai tribe number 12,554. They live in the southwest corner of the province. They are called "bai" because "bai" means "white" and they are generally light-skinned. They have a primitive religion. They enjoy to sing and dance.
At the end of the lecture, we were allowed to ask questions. A (paraphrased, again) sampling:
Question: How easy is it to get to the island of the (insert national minority here) people?
Answer: Oh, it is very easy. It is very close to here. I do not know exactly, I have never been there.
Question: With all of these minorities living in such close proximity to one another, were there ever any conflicts in this region? Or do conflicts arise now with the Han majority?
Answer: Oh no. There is no problems. The national minorities all love being Chinese. All of them. There have never been any problems.
(silence)
Question: Is the government doing anything to preserve the languages of any of these groups, as their numbers shrink?
Answer: No. The government does not see a reason to do this. After all, we are all Chinese. We encourage the groups to maintain their heritage by wearing their traditional clothing and singing and dancing. This is how we maintain diversity.
Sometimes there are just no words....
The next stop on our trip was Dali, the cradle of culture for many national minorities in China. After another overnight train trip, we all climbed on board a tour boat to putter around Erhai lake for a while.
Jesse and I point out that we are, in fact, on a lake.It was a pleasant ride, even if we were all still extremely tired from the train. The highlight was a stop at a small island in the middle of the lake: an island filled with waterfalls, beaches, and warning signs...
"Child's beard have results to show a person to lead a square..."Well duh.
Finally, a place in China that was just pretty and green and blue.That's not a gigantic and scary person in the water, by the way.
It's a statue.
And Nell is in between.
We stayed in Dali for one night, and had great fun with the holes in the ground that were our only toilets while we were there.
Our final destination was an ancient town called Lijiang, where we were to stay for three days visiting happy national minorities and watching them sing and dance, just as we heard they love to do. Also on the itinerary: a giant mountain called "Yulong Snow Mountain" and two relatively free days to adventure as we pleased (and we certainly did).
Our hotel was located right in the ancient town, so right outside our door we were able to buy pineapple halves and other assorted fruits, as well as wander down the skinny pedestrian streets and look at the ubiquitous shops and restaurants. At one of these restaurants, Will, Jesse and I stopped and dined on the finest braised eggplant (still my favorite Chinese food). Afterwards, Will and I went to another restaurant and tried, apprehensively, some Yunnan province red wine. To our complete and utter surprise, this wine actually tasted like wine, and so we happily remained there for several hours.
(Note: in retrospect (retrospect=America) I have realized that the Yunnan wine was pretty bad itself, but in comparison to the other wines of China, it was downright amazing.)
The following morning (April 22nd, for those who are keeping track), it was time to visit the Yulong Snow Mountain. On our way, we stopped at a Naxi village to see some...
...national minority singing and dancing. Figures.We had two options for going up the mountain. Option one involved taking a short gondola ride up a nearby mountain in order to get nice scenic pictures of the Yulong Snow Mountain. Option two involved going up the Snow Mountain itself. It also involved oxygen masks and an insurance waiver. While I would have normally chosen option two, option one was fifty kuai cheaper (which, while only $7 American, seemed like a lot more at the time) . Plus, we ended up in a field full of Yak.
And Yak Yogurt!
(Caitlyn and Me)
And Yak Yogurt!(Caitlyn and Me)
And actual Yak! Incidentally, if you find yourself in a field of Yak...Don't stand near one. It may charge you.
Not that that happened.
I was perfectly safe.
Sort of.
Jesse, tech wizard that he is, changed the settings on my camera to make for some more artsy shots of the mountains.
Yulong Snow Mountain- Pretty Darn BigThe next day I have no photographic records for, yet the memory burns in my mind like an a terrible terrible sunburn. I will try, as best I can, to recreate (in a thousand words, to give you a good picture) what happened on this day. I might start by saying that this day, though it seemed so ordinary at first, would soon turn into my favorite day in China.
Moments after I awoke at the crack of noon-thirty, I stepped outside my room and was harassed by Maria, who wanted to know if I would care to take a short bike ride through the ancient city. I had nothing else to do, so I said OK.
Maria, Ben, Chris and I walked down to the bike rental store and secured bikes for the day for $2 a piece. Oh the extravagance. We then immediately proceeded to stand there for twenty minutes as Ben attempted to figure out where we were going. I didn't realize we had a goal, so I asked him why we didn't just ride around the town until we found something cool.
"Because we're going to visit monasteries," he said.
"Oh." Then a policeman arrived to help us out. We (Maria and Ben) asked him, in our best (semi-comprehensible) Chinese where the monasteries were. He showed us a map of the ancient city. Then he pointed to the top of the map. Then he pointed somewhere vaguely off the map. "Around there."
There was a contingent (Ben) who wanted to ask more people about the whereabouts of this monastery, but every now and then the majority does rule in China, and the other three of us were able to convince him (by riding away) that, since we had a general direction, we should get started.
It was a lovely ride through the ancient town, if you forget the times we almost crashed into pedestrians. After twenty minutes, we came to some sort of park and a stream. This is where the old town ended and the new town began (and where the map ended). After eating a couple of pineapple halves, we decided to continue north. After all, how far north of the ancient town could the monastery be?
We biked through city streets until we found one very large street leading towards the mountains on the east. There were mountains in every direction, forming a bowl around Lijiang, so at the very least- it would be impossible to get TOO lost (by more then ten miles or so).
Every so often, we would stop and ask directions. A shopkeep, a businessman, a gas station attendant, a man chopping wood. They all seemed to be pointing us in the same general direction with the comforting thought that "it is very near." We left the city and started biking through farmland. We reached another ancient town that competes with Lijiang for tourists. The monastery remained "very near." We managed to shake off the people trying to sell us things and continued on through more of the beautiful farmland. The farmers themselves were often out in the fields, harvesting or planting or whatever with just their bare hands and a few smaller tools. If one of them got a hold of a John Deere tractor, China would overtake America in a matter of years.
Two hours later. Hot, dehydrated, and on the other side of the mountains, we were once again "very near." We arrived in the smallest, most stereotypical Chinese village imaginable. The man we asked directions from was actually laying layers of mud to build a sort of wall. We couldn't understand his accent, so Maria called Dr. Sun and handed the phone over. When she took the phone back, Dr. Sun simply said "His mandarin is very bad. I can not understand him." and hung up.
What we got, in the form of some sort of charades from hell, was that the monastery was just up this large mountain, but we had to walk it. Since we had dedicated three hours already to this adventure, we decided to go for it. We chained our bikes together in the most theft-proof method possible (against the warnings/profiteering of an old lady who wanted us to keep them at her house) and started our hike up the mountain. And, of course, up the mountain was synonymous with "through the graveyard."
Chinese graveyards are very different from American ones. It seems as though they have parties up there and light fireworks on graves of loved ones so that they can celebrate too. Everywhere we went, shells of spent fireworks littered the ground. Also, in what was an entirely disconcerting moment, we picked up what looked like money on the ground. Printed in English, oddly enough, was "Bank of Hell Currency." Later, I found out that it is tradition to burn hellnotes for your relatives to spend in heaven. Or hell. Or whatever. I never really understood that part of Chinese culture.
We climbed on and saw no other people for half an hour. Then... hoofs. A clip-clop coming our way. It had been so long since we had seen anyone, we hid like Frodo from a Ring-wraith and jumped to the side of the road. On a parallel road, coming up, was what could have easily passed for the Chinese Marlboro Man, smoking astride his horse and, in a modern twist, listening to his ipod. He didn't see us, and we're pretty sure he didn't hear us, either. We followed him and his horses up the mountain, hoping that he was on a pilgrimage to see the monks. Another half an hour later, we had lost the scent of the horses and given up hope.
Then, suddenly- over the next ridge we climbed- we saw it! More trees and graves! Oh...
So we turned around, and I promised Chris, Maria, and Ben that when I told the story, I would end it like this (and ignore the part about taking another excruciating two hours to bike back): We may not have found a physical Tibetan monastery that day, but we certainly found the Tibetan monastery within ourselves and within our friendships, and THAT made the whole trip worth it.
That evening, after we returned the bikes and hobbled to the nearest dining establishment, I pulled out a pre-paid calling card that I had purchased in Beijing and started to call my girlfriend, Liza, who was in Spain. It was her birthday, and I had saved this card especially for that moment. The card did not work.
I tried again. It still didn't work. I looked at the small print on the back of the card. "This card will only work in the municipality of Beijing." Great.
I pulled out my best Chinese and started asking where I could buy a phone card. "Just over there," they would reply, "it is very near." I knew enough of that statement to become very sullen, and I trudged along. Eventually I found a phone store, and, after explaining exactly what I needed, they told me that they didn't have anything like that. "You don't have phone cards?" I asked. And again, the answer was no.
At least, I thought, I could catch Liza online. So I went back to the street with the internet cafe and... all the power in about four blocks of the city was out. Which, you know... figured.
Drunk with a mixture of exhaustion and incredulity, I ran down the streets of the old city, looking for someone... anyone... with a computer and an internet connection. When I saw lights again, I swerved into a shop where a young woman was using a computer. What I tried to say was "hello, could I please use your computer? I will pay you, I just have to talk to someone very quickly to say happy birthday. It is very important."
What I actually said was more like "Hello. Is that a computer you have there? It is imperative that I use it. I must speak. It is very famous that I do this. VERY famous. Here is money."
The woman offered me the computer and tried to politely decline any sort of compensation, but I simply put it on the table and said "no, you're being very nice to me. Please, take this." I caught Liza right before she was about to get offline, so I considered the adventure a success.
THE NEXT MORNING
Over the course of the previous day, Ben (fearless leader) had been plotting with some of the other group leaders to charter a bus and go to Shangri-la. Yes, THAT Shangri-la. So we did exactly that.
The trip to Shangri-la was long. Five hours each way, to be exact. To break up the monotony, we took a pit stop at one of the largest gorges in the world: Tiger Leaping Gorge. It got its name because, according to legend, a tiger once leaped across the gorge with the help of an extremely large rock in the center.
Moments after I awoke at the crack of noon-thirty, I stepped outside my room and was harassed by Maria, who wanted to know if I would care to take a short bike ride through the ancient city. I had nothing else to do, so I said OK.
Maria, Ben, Chris and I walked down to the bike rental store and secured bikes for the day for $2 a piece. Oh the extravagance. We then immediately proceeded to stand there for twenty minutes as Ben attempted to figure out where we were going. I didn't realize we had a goal, so I asked him why we didn't just ride around the town until we found something cool.
"Because we're going to visit monasteries," he said.
"Oh." Then a policeman arrived to help us out. We (Maria and Ben) asked him, in our best (semi-comprehensible) Chinese where the monasteries were. He showed us a map of the ancient city. Then he pointed to the top of the map. Then he pointed somewhere vaguely off the map. "Around there."
There was a contingent (Ben) who wanted to ask more people about the whereabouts of this monastery, but every now and then the majority does rule in China, and the other three of us were able to convince him (by riding away) that, since we had a general direction, we should get started.
It was a lovely ride through the ancient town, if you forget the times we almost crashed into pedestrians. After twenty minutes, we came to some sort of park and a stream. This is where the old town ended and the new town began (and where the map ended). After eating a couple of pineapple halves, we decided to continue north. After all, how far north of the ancient town could the monastery be?
We biked through city streets until we found one very large street leading towards the mountains on the east. There were mountains in every direction, forming a bowl around Lijiang, so at the very least- it would be impossible to get TOO lost (by more then ten miles or so).
Every so often, we would stop and ask directions. A shopkeep, a businessman, a gas station attendant, a man chopping wood. They all seemed to be pointing us in the same general direction with the comforting thought that "it is very near." We left the city and started biking through farmland. We reached another ancient town that competes with Lijiang for tourists. The monastery remained "very near." We managed to shake off the people trying to sell us things and continued on through more of the beautiful farmland. The farmers themselves were often out in the fields, harvesting or planting or whatever with just their bare hands and a few smaller tools. If one of them got a hold of a John Deere tractor, China would overtake America in a matter of years.
Two hours later. Hot, dehydrated, and on the other side of the mountains, we were once again "very near." We arrived in the smallest, most stereotypical Chinese village imaginable. The man we asked directions from was actually laying layers of mud to build a sort of wall. We couldn't understand his accent, so Maria called Dr. Sun and handed the phone over. When she took the phone back, Dr. Sun simply said "His mandarin is very bad. I can not understand him." and hung up.
What we got, in the form of some sort of charades from hell, was that the monastery was just up this large mountain, but we had to walk it. Since we had dedicated three hours already to this adventure, we decided to go for it. We chained our bikes together in the most theft-proof method possible (against the warnings/profiteering of an old lady who wanted us to keep them at her house) and started our hike up the mountain. And, of course, up the mountain was synonymous with "through the graveyard."
Chinese graveyards are very different from American ones. It seems as though they have parties up there and light fireworks on graves of loved ones so that they can celebrate too. Everywhere we went, shells of spent fireworks littered the ground. Also, in what was an entirely disconcerting moment, we picked up what looked like money on the ground. Printed in English, oddly enough, was "Bank of Hell Currency." Later, I found out that it is tradition to burn hellnotes for your relatives to spend in heaven. Or hell. Or whatever. I never really understood that part of Chinese culture.
We climbed on and saw no other people for half an hour. Then... hoofs. A clip-clop coming our way. It had been so long since we had seen anyone, we hid like Frodo from a Ring-wraith and jumped to the side of the road. On a parallel road, coming up, was what could have easily passed for the Chinese Marlboro Man, smoking astride his horse and, in a modern twist, listening to his ipod. He didn't see us, and we're pretty sure he didn't hear us, either. We followed him and his horses up the mountain, hoping that he was on a pilgrimage to see the monks. Another half an hour later, we had lost the scent of the horses and given up hope.
Then, suddenly- over the next ridge we climbed- we saw it! More trees and graves! Oh...
So we turned around, and I promised Chris, Maria, and Ben that when I told the story, I would end it like this (and ignore the part about taking another excruciating two hours to bike back): We may not have found a physical Tibetan monastery that day, but we certainly found the Tibetan monastery within ourselves and within our friendships, and THAT made the whole trip worth it.
That evening, after we returned the bikes and hobbled to the nearest dining establishment, I pulled out a pre-paid calling card that I had purchased in Beijing and started to call my girlfriend, Liza, who was in Spain. It was her birthday, and I had saved this card especially for that moment. The card did not work.
I tried again. It still didn't work. I looked at the small print on the back of the card. "This card will only work in the municipality of Beijing." Great.
I pulled out my best Chinese and started asking where I could buy a phone card. "Just over there," they would reply, "it is very near." I knew enough of that statement to become very sullen, and I trudged along. Eventually I found a phone store, and, after explaining exactly what I needed, they told me that they didn't have anything like that. "You don't have phone cards?" I asked. And again, the answer was no.
At least, I thought, I could catch Liza online. So I went back to the street with the internet cafe and... all the power in about four blocks of the city was out. Which, you know... figured.
Drunk with a mixture of exhaustion and incredulity, I ran down the streets of the old city, looking for someone... anyone... with a computer and an internet connection. When I saw lights again, I swerved into a shop where a young woman was using a computer. What I tried to say was "hello, could I please use your computer? I will pay you, I just have to talk to someone very quickly to say happy birthday. It is very important."
What I actually said was more like "Hello. Is that a computer you have there? It is imperative that I use it. I must speak. It is very famous that I do this. VERY famous. Here is money."
The woman offered me the computer and tried to politely decline any sort of compensation, but I simply put it on the table and said "no, you're being very nice to me. Please, take this." I caught Liza right before she was about to get offline, so I considered the adventure a success.
THE NEXT MORNING
Over the course of the previous day, Ben (fearless leader) had been plotting with some of the other group leaders to charter a bus and go to Shangri-la. Yes, THAT Shangri-la. So we did exactly that.
The trip to Shangri-la was long. Five hours each way, to be exact. To break up the monotony, we took a pit stop at one of the largest gorges in the world: Tiger Leaping Gorge. It got its name because, according to legend, a tiger once leaped across the gorge with the help of an extremely large rock in the center.
Will and Me at Tiger Leaping GorgeI apologize that the extremely large rock is not in this picture.
But I swear, it's there, and it's extremely large.
At the end of our visit to the gorge, I purchased some tasty walnuts. I'll explain why I mentioned that later, but let's just say that, as I type the word "walnuts" now, a month later, my head hurts and my muscles tense up.
On the bus again, I taught those nearest me fun time-killing games. The crowd favorite, "The Essences Game" (which Liza taught me) is a person-guessing game in which no helpful questions may be asked... only vague "essence" queries such as "what sort of flower/geographic formation/grade of gasoline/potato chip/Lord of the Rings Character would this person be?"
After that, we re-cast the Star Wars movies with people on the program. We are not nerds. Nope.
Our arrival in Shangri-la was anti-climactic. It was an old town, much like Lijiang, and a tourist trap. The only things different were the temperature (it was cold) and a third kind of writing on all the signs (Tibetan!). The cool stuff, as we learned, was a short bus ride away.
On the bus again, I taught those nearest me fun time-killing games. The crowd favorite, "The Essences Game" (which Liza taught me) is a person-guessing game in which no helpful questions may be asked... only vague "essence" queries such as "what sort of flower/geographic formation/grade of gasoline/potato chip/Lord of the Rings Character would this person be?"
After that, we re-cast the Star Wars movies with people on the program. We are not nerds. Nope.
Our arrival in Shangri-la was anti-climactic. It was an old town, much like Lijiang, and a tourist trap. The only things different were the temperature (it was cold) and a third kind of writing on all the signs (Tibetan!). The cool stuff, as we learned, was a short bus ride away.
Seven and a half hours after our trip began, we finally beheld what Shangri-la was all about.The monastery was magnificent... enormous rooms holding thirty and forty foot high Buddhas carved out of wood. There were monks outside, seemingly working on a new structure. I didn't realize this was an option, but some of my friends offered to carry dirt up a ramp to the top of this structure and help stamp it down with their feet. Sadly, I can not say that I helped build a Tibetan Monastery in Shangri-la... but I do know some folks who did.
As with all semi-touristy attractions, Shangri-la had its share of panhandlers, cute children for paid pictures, and wares-merchants. I managed to avoid the panhandlers and cute children, but I just had to buy a couple of Tibetan knives from the vendors. They were really great. I would show them to you, but they were confiscated out of my checked luggage in Beijing (this, despite my pointing at a sign that said "knives are OK if they are in checked luggage. The woman at the gate responded "these are not knives" and I was too dumbstruck to try and fight that.)
After three hours, we boarded our bus again and headed back for one last night in Lijiang. As usual, we had fun on the bus.
As with all semi-touristy attractions, Shangri-la had its share of panhandlers, cute children for paid pictures, and wares-merchants. I managed to avoid the panhandlers and cute children, but I just had to buy a couple of Tibetan knives from the vendors. They were really great. I would show them to you, but they were confiscated out of my checked luggage in Beijing (this, despite my pointing at a sign that said "knives are OK if they are in checked luggage. The woman at the gate responded "these are not knives" and I was too dumbstruck to try and fight that.)
After three hours, we boarded our bus again and headed back for one last night in Lijiang. As usual, we had fun on the bus.
On the five hour bus ride back from Shangri-laThat night I spent shaking, sweating, and vomiting relentlessly. Stupid walnuts.
The next morning, Jesse offered me a "nuclear option" stomach pill again (he had previously offered one in Chengdu), and this time I took it. According to him, the pill would "kill everything in [my] stomach. Everything."
I shuffled my feet all the way to the airport (where I spent some time sleeping on the floor) and generally tried to pass out all the way back to Kunming. The second we got back to the hotel, I got in bed and turned out all the lights. It was about six o' clock. I slept until nine the next morning, and I felt much better. I was, however, unmotivated to eat anything else while I remained in China.
From Kunming we flew back to Beijing, where we had one last free day before returning home. I went to the Pearl Market with the Will, Jesse, Nell, and Hillary and proceeded to buy things like a kid in an under-priced candy store. My German friend, Bill, who I had met on the plane to Harbin, met us there and went with me to KFC. He wanted a debriefing of my time in China, and we had a very nice chat that was helpful in wrapping-up my whole China experience.
That evening, we had our farewell banquet. Each Chinese class was supposed to do a short skit, but our class only had three members who showed up at the banquet (to be fair, a lot had left Beijing earlier). I thought we had gotten off free, but then Will started a chant that went something like "Mike's class, Mike's class" and everyone picked it up... so I got up and did a brief rant about why my class wasn't there. Then I told an awful joke about Pirates and Beijing cab drivers. It's not one I wish to save for posterity.
The next morning, Jesse offered me a "nuclear option" stomach pill again (he had previously offered one in Chengdu), and this time I took it. According to him, the pill would "kill everything in [my] stomach. Everything."
I shuffled my feet all the way to the airport (where I spent some time sleeping on the floor) and generally tried to pass out all the way back to Kunming. The second we got back to the hotel, I got in bed and turned out all the lights. It was about six o' clock. I slept until nine the next morning, and I felt much better. I was, however, unmotivated to eat anything else while I remained in China.
From Kunming we flew back to Beijing, where we had one last free day before returning home. I went to the Pearl Market with the Will, Jesse, Nell, and Hillary and proceeded to buy things like a kid in an under-priced candy store. My German friend, Bill, who I had met on the plane to Harbin, met us there and went with me to KFC. He wanted a debriefing of my time in China, and we had a very nice chat that was helpful in wrapping-up my whole China experience.
That evening, we had our farewell banquet. Each Chinese class was supposed to do a short skit, but our class only had three members who showed up at the banquet (to be fair, a lot had left Beijing earlier). I thought we had gotten off free, but then Will started a chant that went something like "Mike's class, Mike's class" and everyone picked it up... so I got up and did a brief rant about why my class wasn't there. Then I told an awful joke about Pirates and Beijing cab drivers. It's not one I wish to save for posterity.
One last look at Shaoyuan 5We said our goodbyes, and the next morning we took leave of Beida. The four months we were there went by so fast. I still find it hard to believe I was even in China. But I have pictures and quite a few new friends who seem to have materialized out of nowhere, so I'm reasonably convinced that I was there.
I have now been back for over a month. I apologize for those who were expecting a quick trip-summary, but, like I said at the start of this blog, I can occasionally be lazy.
I hope that I have written down, as accurately as possible, my experiences in China. I have a terrible memory, so in a few years what I've written here is all I'm going to remember, I'm sure. I've enjoyed sharing it with you, and have appreciated all the comments (Kay). I encourage you all to visit China sometime- it is a fascinating and amazing place.
With that, I think I will end this all-too-long narrative. This will be the last post on this blog, but I've had such fun writing it that perhaps I'll have to do another at some point.
Thanks for reading. Zaijian, y'all.
-Mike
I hope that I have written down, as accurately as possible, my experiences in China. I have a terrible memory, so in a few years what I've written here is all I'm going to remember, I'm sure. I've enjoyed sharing it with you, and have appreciated all the comments (Kay). I encourage you all to visit China sometime- it is a fascinating and amazing place.
With that, I think I will end this all-too-long narrative. This will be the last post on this blog, but I've had such fun writing it that perhaps I'll have to do another at some point.
Thanks for reading. Zaijian, y'all.
-Mike
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Pan-China Adventure
I've had spotty internet since we started off (on the 12th) on our tour of China. This is not an update, but rather the promise of an update. What I have to do (I've decided) is write up the entire update without internet, and then post it the next time I have access. The only reason I haven't done so yet is because every time I'm about to do a writeup on a bus or an overnight train, someone asks to borrow my computer to finish a paper for class.
I'm taking good notes in my head, though, and I have acquired some great pictures. For now, though, I leave you with a shot of Team Victorious leaving the train station in Beijing.
Left to right: Alice, Hillary, Jesse, Ben (Team Captain), Will, Me, Nell
I'm taking good notes in my head, though, and I have acquired some great pictures. For now, though, I leave you with a shot of Team Victorious leaving the train station in Beijing.
Left to right: Alice, Hillary, Jesse, Ben (Team Captain), Will, Me, NellThursday, April 10, 2008
I was right about that whole "what I said is getting cut" thing
Hey everyone, here's a link to the show I was on. I think I look and sound sort of dumb. And my hair is weird. Oh well.
Things that were cut:
The moderator asks me whether Americans will be OK with a black man in the White House. I explain why that's a bad question and why the media needs to take more responsibility in reporting based on policies.
The moderator asks me whether Americans will be OK with a woman in the White House. I say that the same answer applies.
The moderator asks me an actual question about economic policy. Cut.
At one point I start coughing a lot (I had the very end of a cold). They cut that. I'm happy about that specific cut.
Things I enjoy:
The moderator asks me a question about the types of supporters that Obama and Hillary draw. I try to avoid stereotyping and so talk about their image branding efforts.
He then turns to the Hillary girl and says "is it true that most of the supporters behind Hillary Clinton... are women and latin people."
At another point, he reveals his very thin layer of neutrality. "Yes, when Hillary is voted into the White House... presumably... That'd be GREAT!.... in the opinions of some people."
In general, he keeps trying to talk about stereotypes, colors, and large ethnic groups, and if we don't answer a question the way he wants us to, he rephrases and asks again.
I make a few feeble attempts at jokes. Very feeble.
And overall the show is boring. I would recommend watching the whole thing only to help you go to sleep.
http://www.cctv.com/program/e_dialogue/20080409/103862.shtml
Things that were cut:
The moderator asks me whether Americans will be OK with a black man in the White House. I explain why that's a bad question and why the media needs to take more responsibility in reporting based on policies.
The moderator asks me whether Americans will be OK with a woman in the White House. I say that the same answer applies.
The moderator asks me an actual question about economic policy. Cut.
At one point I start coughing a lot (I had the very end of a cold). They cut that. I'm happy about that specific cut.
Things I enjoy:
The moderator asks me a question about the types of supporters that Obama and Hillary draw. I try to avoid stereotyping and so talk about their image branding efforts.
He then turns to the Hillary girl and says "is it true that most of the supporters behind Hillary Clinton... are women and latin people."
At another point, he reveals his very thin layer of neutrality. "Yes, when Hillary is voted into the White House... presumably... That'd be GREAT!.... in the opinions of some people."
In general, he keeps trying to talk about stereotypes, colors, and large ethnic groups, and if we don't answer a question the way he wants us to, he rephrases and asks again.
I make a few feeble attempts at jokes. Very feeble.
And overall the show is boring. I would recommend watching the whole thing only to help you go to sleep.
http://www.cctv.com/program/e_dialogue/20080409/103862.shtml
Monday, April 7, 2008
Success!
The show was moved from tonight to tomorrow night, so I'll send the link out then (maybe)- but this isn't about that.
Just a few seconds ago, I received tangible evidence that all of my time attempting to learn Chinese has not been in vain.
The phone in my room rang, so I picked it up and said hello. The woman on the other line said "ni hao" and then talked for about ten seconds. I understood none of what she said. I said, in Chinese- "who are you looking for?" And she said something again, and this time I picked up from the context that she wasn't looking for anyone in particular. She ended with "keyi ma? (is this possible/are you able/is this OK/may I/can I/might I?)" And I realized that she was a telemarketer or something and wanted to talk me into buying something!
I told her "Bu keyi, duibuqi" and hung up the phone after saying goodbye to a stranger who (I fervently hope) thought that I could actually speak Chinese.
If I weren't double-majoring already, I'd take a few more language classes back at William and Mary.
Just a few seconds ago, I received tangible evidence that all of my time attempting to learn Chinese has not been in vain.
The phone in my room rang, so I picked it up and said hello. The woman on the other line said "ni hao" and then talked for about ten seconds. I understood none of what she said. I said, in Chinese- "who are you looking for?" And she said something again, and this time I picked up from the context that she wasn't looking for anyone in particular. She ended with "keyi ma? (is this possible/are you able/is this OK/may I/can I/might I?)" And I realized that she was a telemarketer or something and wanted to talk me into buying something!
I told her "Bu keyi, duibuqi" and hung up the phone after saying goodbye to a stranger who (I fervently hope) thought that I could actually speak Chinese.
If I weren't double-majoring already, I'd take a few more language classes back at William and Mary.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Half of What I Said Will Probably be Cut
Just got back from CCTV- now THAT was an experience.
A driver from Beida took us there, where we had to wait outside for our contact to come meet us. We then walked through two checkpoints of armed guards into a really amazing lobby. TVs, of course, were everywhere. She led us to the newsroom, where we met our host and got put into makeup alongside him. While we were sitting there, he asked questions such as "does Chelsea Clinton have a boyfriend?" and "Why does America want to boycott the Olympics?" We declined to answer the second question.
Once in the studio (really cool- four camera angle setup) we all sat down and he started practicing saying our names. Then, strangely, he pulled a mask out of his pocket and showed it to us. (the following is paraphrased as best as I can remember)
"I carried this around in 2003 during the SARS epidemic. It is too thin, though. It wouldn't do anything."
We gave him confused nods.
"When the SARS started, all the western media started to say terrible things about China, and then, in a very wise decision, the Chinese government decided to fix the problem and become more transparent. So I think that's a good thing."
O...kay...
And then we started the show. We received no instructions as to the format, how he would like us to discuss, or anything else. He asked us for our opinions about things, and we gave them. We were all very reasonable and respectful of each other's opinions, there was no yelling, it was a very nice discussion. It will probably be very boring to watch.
It was clear that he was a big Hillary supporter based on the kinds of questions he asked Katie, who was the Hillary supporter. He asked me a number of questions, all of which I felt were trying to bait me into talking about some sort of ridiculous trumped up non-issue. One that he asked me that I'm almost certain is getting edited out was a two-part question. First, he asked me about Barack and how the nation would feel to have a black president. I told him outright that I felt like the media was focusing on these things which were non-issues instead of the facts, and it was a bad question. He later asked me what I felt about having a woman in the White House, at which point I said "again, I feel like that sort of question is just wrong to ask, because--" but then he cut me off and asked another question.
I realized today that everything I had previously thought about the media was entirely correct. There is no desire at all to talk about actual policies and actions, and every desire to talk about race, gender, flip-flopping, crying, and whatever other nonsense that the media feels will be somewhat sensationalist. The few times that Matt, Katie, or I tried to discuss actual policies, we were cut off very quickly and no follow-up questions were asked.
All in all, it was a reasonably good show- I don't think that I'll come off looking TOO stupid or anything like that (well, depending on how they edit)- but it really does make me lose my faith in the media even more.
Don't listen to what the media tells you. If you really want to be informed, then go to THOMAS (through the Library of Congress) and you can do a quick search for all of the Bills that any of the candidates has ever sponsored. Compare these bills to the bills that other senators sponsor. Check the voting records. See what your candidate REALLY believes in, at least enough to try to pass a law about it. Then, pick your candidate- not based on party lines or media rhetoric, but on action that that candidate has taken with which you agree.
But all that venting aside, I'll be able to post next week sometime a website where you can go and watch the show. You'll be able to tell which panelist I am because I'll be the one starting almost every response with "well I don't actually think that matters--"
A driver from Beida took us there, where we had to wait outside for our contact to come meet us. We then walked through two checkpoints of armed guards into a really amazing lobby. TVs, of course, were everywhere. She led us to the newsroom, where we met our host and got put into makeup alongside him. While we were sitting there, he asked questions such as "does Chelsea Clinton have a boyfriend?" and "Why does America want to boycott the Olympics?" We declined to answer the second question.
Once in the studio (really cool- four camera angle setup) we all sat down and he started practicing saying our names. Then, strangely, he pulled a mask out of his pocket and showed it to us. (the following is paraphrased as best as I can remember)
"I carried this around in 2003 during the SARS epidemic. It is too thin, though. It wouldn't do anything."
We gave him confused nods.
"When the SARS started, all the western media started to say terrible things about China, and then, in a very wise decision, the Chinese government decided to fix the problem and become more transparent. So I think that's a good thing."
O...kay...
And then we started the show. We received no instructions as to the format, how he would like us to discuss, or anything else. He asked us for our opinions about things, and we gave them. We were all very reasonable and respectful of each other's opinions, there was no yelling, it was a very nice discussion. It will probably be very boring to watch.
It was clear that he was a big Hillary supporter based on the kinds of questions he asked Katie, who was the Hillary supporter. He asked me a number of questions, all of which I felt were trying to bait me into talking about some sort of ridiculous trumped up non-issue. One that he asked me that I'm almost certain is getting edited out was a two-part question. First, he asked me about Barack and how the nation would feel to have a black president. I told him outright that I felt like the media was focusing on these things which were non-issues instead of the facts, and it was a bad question. He later asked me what I felt about having a woman in the White House, at which point I said "again, I feel like that sort of question is just wrong to ask, because--" but then he cut me off and asked another question.
I realized today that everything I had previously thought about the media was entirely correct. There is no desire at all to talk about actual policies and actions, and every desire to talk about race, gender, flip-flopping, crying, and whatever other nonsense that the media feels will be somewhat sensationalist. The few times that Matt, Katie, or I tried to discuss actual policies, we were cut off very quickly and no follow-up questions were asked.
All in all, it was a reasonably good show- I don't think that I'll come off looking TOO stupid or anything like that (well, depending on how they edit)- but it really does make me lose my faith in the media even more.
Don't listen to what the media tells you. If you really want to be informed, then go to THOMAS (through the Library of Congress) and you can do a quick search for all of the Bills that any of the candidates has ever sponsored. Compare these bills to the bills that other senators sponsor. Check the voting records. See what your candidate REALLY believes in, at least enough to try to pass a law about it. Then, pick your candidate- not based on party lines or media rhetoric, but on action that that candidate has taken with which you agree.
But all that venting aside, I'll be able to post next week sometime a website where you can go and watch the show. You'll be able to tell which panelist I am because I'll be the one starting almost every response with "well I don't actually think that matters--"
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
28 Days Later
I like the idea of continuity and self-reference, and I noticed that in 28 days, I will be home again. One thing is certain- when I wrote my original post 28 days before I came to China, I had no idea what was going on. I put off thinking about it until the last minute, packed the night before I left (forgot a few things I needed) and ended up on the other side of the world.
I'll be writing more of my final thoughts and overall impressions as the days tick away. We still have one more week of school and then a thirteen day trip around China, so there should be plenty to write about.
There are many reasons that I'll miss China, but there are also plenty why I'll be glad to be back. For example, the washing machines in the dorms (and hanging them up to dry) have all but utterly destroyed my clothes. Just last night, one pair of pants emerged from the machine with a giant hole in it. The washing machine allows only those truly deserving clothes, with greatness of heart and valor, to survive unscathed.
So all that is to say that, in a stark reversal of my usual temperament, if you ask me if I would like to go on a shopping trip at any point this summer, I will probably say yes.
I was going to do some sort of April Fool's joke, but then something actually happened that seemed funny enough. For the debate at CCTV tomorrow I have been upgraded from Independent to Republican, because CCTV requested a Republican and the other two people going are supporting Clinton and Obama. So regardless of my actual beliefs (right now I disagree and agree with different things and haven't decided which issue is the most important to me as far as supporting a candidate goes) I get to play my favorite role of devil's advocate against two people who essentially agree with all of each other's points. That, at least, should be a lot of fun.
I'll be writing more of my final thoughts and overall impressions as the days tick away. We still have one more week of school and then a thirteen day trip around China, so there should be plenty to write about.
There are many reasons that I'll miss China, but there are also plenty why I'll be glad to be back. For example, the washing machines in the dorms (and hanging them up to dry) have all but utterly destroyed my clothes. Just last night, one pair of pants emerged from the machine with a giant hole in it. The washing machine allows only those truly deserving clothes, with greatness of heart and valor, to survive unscathed.
So all that is to say that, in a stark reversal of my usual temperament, if you ask me if I would like to go on a shopping trip at any point this summer, I will probably say yes.
I was going to do some sort of April Fool's joke, but then something actually happened that seemed funny enough. For the debate at CCTV tomorrow I have been upgraded from Independent to Republican, because CCTV requested a Republican and the other two people going are supporting Clinton and Obama. So regardless of my actual beliefs (right now I disagree and agree with different things and haven't decided which issue is the most important to me as far as supporting a candidate goes) I get to play my favorite role of devil's advocate against two people who essentially agree with all of each other's points. That, at least, should be a lot of fun.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Great Wall (or: "You buy! You buy! Two one dollar! I not try to cheat you!")
One thing that people generally don't mention about the Great Wall is that, in most places, you have to hike up a mountain for about an hour just to get a glimpse of actual wall. Also, people will try to sell you things for most of the hike. But it is at a great discount. Because you are good friend. And they sell for big loss.
I bought two t-shirts for 25 kuai (3 bucks) after working them down from 300 kuai. I didn't really want them, but once you've haggled with someone for ten minutes you sort of feel obligated to buy something.
We forgot it was Spring...
First View of the Wall
It's a big wall.
Alice, Jesse, Vince, Will, Nell, Hillary, MeWe had a snowball fight on top of one of the guard towers.
After two hours, it was time to go. We were all very sad.On Sunday Will, Hillary and I went to the Winter Palace, which was really just like a gigantic garden with lots of lakes. They would have been lakes, at least, if there had been water involved. Big muddy holes is more like it. It was a beautiful day, though, and a very nice place to visit overall.
Something we don't see much in Beijing
Hiding behind a tree in the bamboo forest... can you see me?In other news, I'm going to be on CCTV on Thursday as part of a three person panel discussing the United States elections. As I was walking up the mountain to the Great Wall, Dr. Sun came up beside me and started asking me all of these questions about politics. Afterwards, he asked me to be on the panel. Which is funny, because I don't actually know that much about the individual candidates, so I guess I have to start studying.
That's all for now. We only have one more action to learn in our 24-action Tai Chi class, so I know that the semester is winding down. Just a few more weeks of "young maid passing the shuttle through the loom" and "finding the needle in the sea" and "grabbing the sparrow's tail" for me. I'm about ready to be back, though. I miss fake Chinese food. That's very sad, isn't it?
Monday, March 24, 2008
All the Tea in China
I found it. I found where they keep it. It's all in on a small street known, in English, as "the tea market." Go figure. Ben, Hillary, Nell and I took a nine hour tour over to the Tea Market today just for fun. We're getting much better at the subway- only took us an hour and a half to get there.
Once we arrived at the street, we were greeted with the familiar opening of doors in every direction and the ubiquitous "hallo!" of the shopkeepers. Upon browsing through one of the chock-full-of-tea stores, I had a realization- I know absolutely nothing about tea. I felt very silly to even be in a place called the Tea Market. As we walked around, salespeople would shove plates full of dried up leaves at me. I wasn't really sure if I was supposed to smell it or touch it or just look at it intently, so most often I just tried to ignore them, which is HARD to do in a place where determined sellers will actually come up to you and physically pull you towards their wares. It's more annoying than invasive- as I've said before, I'm pretty sure I could take a small Asian lady if she got violent.
After finishing up the smaller shops, we set our sights a little higher- the Beijing International Tea Market Building. A giant mall filled only with tea shops. We spent a good deal of time discussing how such an arrangement could work out for the individual shops economically. Anyway, we were harassed by the standard "Jin lai kan yi xia!" (Come in and look right-quick) and we dutifully (like the easy targets that we are) went in and looked right-quick. Finally, on the top floor, we passed a shop and were NOT yelled at or attacked in any way. At first we thought that someone forgot to man his or her battle stations, but then we saw a friendly looking lady just sitting at her table and sipping some tea. When she saw that we were looking at her, she said, in English, "Would you like to try some tea?" And then we had a two hour tea-party as we tried every kind of tea in her store, learned about its origins and proper preparations, and bought most all of the aforementioned tea. A little knowledge is indeed a dangerous thing.
Afterwards, we went to "snack street" where I had all the hunger scared out of me by piles and piles of scorpions-on-a-stick. The shopkeepers would wave them in my face, and the scorpions would wave too because they were still very much alive. I am not very squeamish, but I am sane, so I went and got a happy meal.
I haven't put any pictures up lately because my camera ran out of batteries and I have to borrow a charger to make it work again, but it should be clicking away this weekend when we go to the Great Wall. Last weekend was pretty decent, but nothing particularly noteworthy other than going to the Summer Palace, which would have been fun to talk about if I had pictures. We're going back, and I'll take pictures then.
I hope everyone had a happy Easter!
Once we arrived at the street, we were greeted with the familiar opening of doors in every direction and the ubiquitous "hallo!" of the shopkeepers. Upon browsing through one of the chock-full-of-tea stores, I had a realization- I know absolutely nothing about tea. I felt very silly to even be in a place called the Tea Market. As we walked around, salespeople would shove plates full of dried up leaves at me. I wasn't really sure if I was supposed to smell it or touch it or just look at it intently, so most often I just tried to ignore them, which is HARD to do in a place where determined sellers will actually come up to you and physically pull you towards their wares. It's more annoying than invasive- as I've said before, I'm pretty sure I could take a small Asian lady if she got violent.
After finishing up the smaller shops, we set our sights a little higher- the Beijing International Tea Market Building. A giant mall filled only with tea shops. We spent a good deal of time discussing how such an arrangement could work out for the individual shops economically. Anyway, we were harassed by the standard "Jin lai kan yi xia!" (Come in and look right-quick) and we dutifully (like the easy targets that we are) went in and looked right-quick. Finally, on the top floor, we passed a shop and were NOT yelled at or attacked in any way. At first we thought that someone forgot to man his or her battle stations, but then we saw a friendly looking lady just sitting at her table and sipping some tea. When she saw that we were looking at her, she said, in English, "Would you like to try some tea?" And then we had a two hour tea-party as we tried every kind of tea in her store, learned about its origins and proper preparations, and bought most all of the aforementioned tea. A little knowledge is indeed a dangerous thing.
Afterwards, we went to "snack street" where I had all the hunger scared out of me by piles and piles of scorpions-on-a-stick. The shopkeepers would wave them in my face, and the scorpions would wave too because they were still very much alive. I am not very squeamish, but I am sane, so I went and got a happy meal.
I haven't put any pictures up lately because my camera ran out of batteries and I have to borrow a charger to make it work again, but it should be clicking away this weekend when we go to the Great Wall. Last weekend was pretty decent, but nothing particularly noteworthy other than going to the Summer Palace, which would have been fun to talk about if I had pictures. We're going back, and I'll take pictures then.
I hope everyone had a happy Easter!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
I got bored and shaved.
As a joke, I left a little bit in the middle, which I have since shaved off. This picture really doesn't do it justice, though.
It was worth not shaving for over a month just for the double-takes I'm getting now.
And now for the... ummm... last weekend's update.
Our destination: that hill, which is entirely man-made.
This guy is doing street calligraphy with water. We saw a few people doing this.
View of Wudaoku from the Subway- in case anyone was wondering what
Wudaoku was, since I reference it a lot.
Before I close, Bobby had a question about my views on the Beijing Olympics.
The Beijing Olympics:
There are a lot of people talking about how we should boycott the Beijing Olympics in response to human rights abuses, Darfur, Tibet, and whatever else. I read somewhere that, according to the article's writer, Bush attending these Olympics (as Bush has promised) would be akin to FDR attending the 1936 Berlin Olympics.
Here's the problem with all of that. We assume that boycotting the Olympics would be like taking a stand and telling them that world opinion is not on their side about the above issues. However, I don't believe that the message would actually sink in, and in fact I feel as though much more progress would be made on those things if the Chinese Olympics were strongly supported.
When Spielberg dropped out of the planning committee (he was helping design the opening show, and backed out because of objections over Darfur), the Chinese press had a week long "what an idiot" chant going along every media outlet. And the Chinese people, according to what I can see, completely and wholeheartedly agree. I have not heard solidarity like that since there was a bill about pasteurizing cheese when I was in France. They ALL thought Steven Spielberg was being childish, unfair, and ignorant. Now, I'm not going to go in to whether or not I believe they are right, because I don't think that matters in the least for this question.
What matters most, in my mind, is what the average Chinese person believes and what they WILL believe given a certain set of actions. The average Chinese person that I have met is extremely friendly, very likable, and super-excited about the Olympics. It has nothing to do with politics for them- it is a symbol that they as a people (not the government) have been able to prosper to a point where they can hold such a prestigious event. If you try to take that away from the, regardless of the reason, there will be more weeks of "what idiots they are" and the country will become even more sure of its own decisions (if the dishonorable idiots who pulled out of the Olympics are saying something is wrong, then obviously that thing must be right).
Again, this has nothing to do with right and wrong or what I would or wouldn't like to happen, but it's the most logical eventuality if Olympic boycotts are realized. Personally, I see the Olympics as a great thing for China, and I feel as though it will give the Chinese people more exposure to internationals (and more opportunities to make friends), which is a very good thing for both them and us. Also, I've never seen people so excited about the Olympics. They wouldn't "learn a lesson" from an Olympic failure- they'd just be really sad.
Besides, in my view, change comes from economic motives. If you strongly disagree with the government of China, and you disagree with human rights violations and unfair working conditions, etc, etc... then don't purchase Chinese manufactured goods. That makes a lot more sense to me.
Quote of the week, from Business Strategies, as always (from a competing team upset that everyone was voting for our market differentiation campaign):
"You can't just use George Clooney as a perpetual trump card!"
It was worth not shaving for over a month just for the double-takes I'm getting now.And now for the... ummm... last weekend's update.
FRIDAY:
We went to a bar district that was located around a lake. I took a picture, but it was far too blurry. What is of note about this trip is that I did not actually make it into any bar, since there were two very drunk Americans who decided to join our group and get us a good rate on drinks at a bar. At each establishment, one would walk up to the person working the door and start speaking in very fluent Chinese. He would then turn around and list a very reasonable price for a beer that he had managed to achieve. The other American, misinterpreting this as an entrance fee rather than the price of a beer, would invariably approach the doorman and proceed to scream at him in English and Chinese about the proper way to treat people and how, if we were Chinese, there wouldn't be an entrance price. In every single case, there was, in fact, not. However, he apparently forgot this in the twenty steps that we had to take, in our embarrassment, between bars.
Dear US Government,
If you REALLY want to curb binge drinking, please find this American and videotape him on a random night out. It will be hilarious AND highly discouraging for anyone thinking of drinking to an equally stupid point.
SATURDAY:
Saturday looked like a warm day, so I didn't bring my coat, which means I didn't bring my camera. Other people have pictures of this day, but I don't have those pictures yet. When I do, I will post them. At least I say I will. Most likely, though, I will forget which day they belonged to and just lump them in with all of my China pictures and then, in twenty years while looking through my backup files, I will exclaim "there! there I am at the Temple of Heaven!"
So anyway, we went to the "Temple of Heaven" which is really an incorrect translation, since it's more like the "Altar of the Skies." It is an enormous structure in the middle of a concrete square that I can't really describe. Google it! It's really cool.
The coolest part, though, was the sprawling complex of gardens to the side of the Temple of Heaven. I have not seen so many trees and animals since I arrived in Beijing, and they were a welcome sight. Down one path, there was a small gazebo with an old toothless Chinese man playing the accordion. He could play the keyboard very well, but only knew one chord, it seemed, to play on the drones. There were a few older people around him singing a song along with the melody. One possible reason that karaoke is a much bigger success in Asia than in America is because Asians (Chinese people, at least) have no problem with singing as loud as they can in whatever pitch they find handy at the time. It was a lot of fun. As we were leaving, the Chinese man started to play an American folk song that we recognized but didn't know the words to. If we had, it could have been a great cross-cultural moment. Oh well.
Saturday night we went to see some acrobats. The show was amazing, and I can't really describe my mixture of fear and joy as I watched men jump and flip through hoops that were easily nine feet off the ground like it was the easiest thing in the world. There was no trampoline involved.
Also of note was a woman riding a unicycle on top of a large rolling ball while flipping bowls and spoons onto her head. What I hear is that there are certain cities in China where all they do is train for this stuff. I believe it.
After we left the theater and started walking back in the bitterly cold Beijing night, it struck me that there was another reason I was dumb for leaving my coat in the room.
SUNDAY:
On Sunday Will, Hillary, Alice, Nell, and I went by subway back to the Forbidden City area. It took us an hour and a half to get there, but we made it.
We went to a bar district that was located around a lake. I took a picture, but it was far too blurry. What is of note about this trip is that I did not actually make it into any bar, since there were two very drunk Americans who decided to join our group and get us a good rate on drinks at a bar. At each establishment, one would walk up to the person working the door and start speaking in very fluent Chinese. He would then turn around and list a very reasonable price for a beer that he had managed to achieve. The other American, misinterpreting this as an entrance fee rather than the price of a beer, would invariably approach the doorman and proceed to scream at him in English and Chinese about the proper way to treat people and how, if we were Chinese, there wouldn't be an entrance price. In every single case, there was, in fact, not. However, he apparently forgot this in the twenty steps that we had to take, in our embarrassment, between bars.
Dear US Government,
If you REALLY want to curb binge drinking, please find this American and videotape him on a random night out. It will be hilarious AND highly discouraging for anyone thinking of drinking to an equally stupid point.
SATURDAY:
Saturday looked like a warm day, so I didn't bring my coat, which means I didn't bring my camera. Other people have pictures of this day, but I don't have those pictures yet. When I do, I will post them. At least I say I will. Most likely, though, I will forget which day they belonged to and just lump them in with all of my China pictures and then, in twenty years while looking through my backup files, I will exclaim "there! there I am at the Temple of Heaven!"
So anyway, we went to the "Temple of Heaven" which is really an incorrect translation, since it's more like the "Altar of the Skies." It is an enormous structure in the middle of a concrete square that I can't really describe. Google it! It's really cool.
The coolest part, though, was the sprawling complex of gardens to the side of the Temple of Heaven. I have not seen so many trees and animals since I arrived in Beijing, and they were a welcome sight. Down one path, there was a small gazebo with an old toothless Chinese man playing the accordion. He could play the keyboard very well, but only knew one chord, it seemed, to play on the drones. There were a few older people around him singing a song along with the melody. One possible reason that karaoke is a much bigger success in Asia than in America is because Asians (Chinese people, at least) have no problem with singing as loud as they can in whatever pitch they find handy at the time. It was a lot of fun. As we were leaving, the Chinese man started to play an American folk song that we recognized but didn't know the words to. If we had, it could have been a great cross-cultural moment. Oh well.
Saturday night we went to see some acrobats. The show was amazing, and I can't really describe my mixture of fear and joy as I watched men jump and flip through hoops that were easily nine feet off the ground like it was the easiest thing in the world. There was no trampoline involved.
Also of note was a woman riding a unicycle on top of a large rolling ball while flipping bowls and spoons onto her head. What I hear is that there are certain cities in China where all they do is train for this stuff. I believe it.
After we left the theater and started walking back in the bitterly cold Beijing night, it struck me that there was another reason I was dumb for leaving my coat in the room.
SUNDAY:
On Sunday Will, Hillary, Alice, Nell, and I went by subway back to the Forbidden City area. It took us an hour and a half to get there, but we made it.
Our destination: that hill, which is entirely man-made.The park surrounding the hill was very peaceful and quiet, and on top of the hill was a very large Buddha and a great view of the Forbidden City. At the back of the hill, we found a great mass of older Chinese people dancing, singing, playing hackey-sack, and otherwise having a good time. I got some videos that I WOULD post on youtube.....
This guy is doing street calligraphy with water. We saw a few people doing this.We stayed for a while and then headed back.
View of Wudaoku from the Subway- in case anyone was wondering whatWudaoku was, since I reference it a lot.
Overall it was a very peaceful and green weekend- a much needed respite from the normal Beijing feel.
Before I close, Bobby had a question about my views on the Beijing Olympics.
The Beijing Olympics:
There are a lot of people talking about how we should boycott the Beijing Olympics in response to human rights abuses, Darfur, Tibet, and whatever else. I read somewhere that, according to the article's writer, Bush attending these Olympics (as Bush has promised) would be akin to FDR attending the 1936 Berlin Olympics.
Here's the problem with all of that. We assume that boycotting the Olympics would be like taking a stand and telling them that world opinion is not on their side about the above issues. However, I don't believe that the message would actually sink in, and in fact I feel as though much more progress would be made on those things if the Chinese Olympics were strongly supported.
When Spielberg dropped out of the planning committee (he was helping design the opening show, and backed out because of objections over Darfur), the Chinese press had a week long "what an idiot" chant going along every media outlet. And the Chinese people, according to what I can see, completely and wholeheartedly agree. I have not heard solidarity like that since there was a bill about pasteurizing cheese when I was in France. They ALL thought Steven Spielberg was being childish, unfair, and ignorant. Now, I'm not going to go in to whether or not I believe they are right, because I don't think that matters in the least for this question.
What matters most, in my mind, is what the average Chinese person believes and what they WILL believe given a certain set of actions. The average Chinese person that I have met is extremely friendly, very likable, and super-excited about the Olympics. It has nothing to do with politics for them- it is a symbol that they as a people (not the government) have been able to prosper to a point where they can hold such a prestigious event. If you try to take that away from the, regardless of the reason, there will be more weeks of "what idiots they are" and the country will become even more sure of its own decisions (if the dishonorable idiots who pulled out of the Olympics are saying something is wrong, then obviously that thing must be right).
Again, this has nothing to do with right and wrong or what I would or wouldn't like to happen, but it's the most logical eventuality if Olympic boycotts are realized. Personally, I see the Olympics as a great thing for China, and I feel as though it will give the Chinese people more exposure to internationals (and more opportunities to make friends), which is a very good thing for both them and us. Also, I've never seen people so excited about the Olympics. They wouldn't "learn a lesson" from an Olympic failure- they'd just be really sad.
Besides, in my view, change comes from economic motives. If you strongly disagree with the government of China, and you disagree with human rights violations and unfair working conditions, etc, etc... then don't purchase Chinese manufactured goods. That makes a lot more sense to me.
Quote of the week, from Business Strategies, as always (from a competing team upset that everyone was voting for our market differentiation campaign):
"You can't just use George Clooney as a perpetual trump card!"
Friday, March 14, 2008
Why I Don't Shop in China
I wish I had gotten a picture of this. Will, Maria, Elliot, and I were walking around the Wudaoku area, and I made the mistake of glancing to my left as we passed a large electronics store with plate glass windows. Inside the store I saw approximately zero customers and around thirty salespeople. And every single one was staring at me and, I imagine, smiling hungrily. I'm not sure what sort of message they're going for, but sometimes having a larger sales force MIGHT not be the answer.
I'm working on a weekend update (we saw acrobats, the Temple of Heaven, and even returned to the area around the Forbidden City) but I wanted to throw out a quick note about the current situation first. I'm not sure if this is in the American news, but a certain part of China (it rhymes with Ribet) is undergoing riots and crackdowns at a level unheard of in over 20 years. Cars, shops, and tour buses have apparently been burned in the capital. Depending on your sources, there are either ten dead shopkeepers burned to death by the rioters (official accounts) or eighty dead rioters shot by the crackdown (...actual reality accounts). I came by this information in bits and pieces, since most every source that I access is subsequently banned and shut down by the country. Youtube is gone for who knows how long because there is riot footage, apparently. I'm sort of pissed about not being allowed to use youtube, so I encourage all of you to seek out this riot footage and watch it as many times as possible just to piss of the folks who would rather no one be aware of this situation. It would be a ridiculous understatement to say that mass censorship of this degree makes me seethingly angry, and is certainly not convincing me of the correctness of China's (to quote Eddie Izzard) "Do you have a flag? No flag no country. According to the rules that I... made up... just now." arguments. (I apologize if the previous quotation is incorrect. I would double-check it on youtube, but...)
Long story short, I don't think that I'll be going to that place, as was the original plan. Dr. Sun hasn't told us about our contingency-plan trip yet, but I'll report on that as soon as I know.
In other, less serious news, I'd like to present the following dialogue between me and the personification of my shower this morning.
Me: Good morning, shower.
Shower: A fine morning indeed.
Me: How about a moderately temperate shower on this fine morning?
Shower: Hop on in!
Me: Shower, why are you scalding hot?
Shower: I'm sorry, why don't you turn down the dial?
Me: The dial is down to the very bottom. You are still searing my flesh. Wait a second, now you are spurting ice cubes.
Shower: Sorry about that, why don't you just turn me back up.
Me: Well I am, and I'm still near hypothermi--
Shower: BURN, capitalist pig!
... or something like that, at least.
I'm working on a weekend update (we saw acrobats, the Temple of Heaven, and even returned to the area around the Forbidden City) but I wanted to throw out a quick note about the current situation first. I'm not sure if this is in the American news, but a certain part of China (it rhymes with Ribet) is undergoing riots and crackdowns at a level unheard of in over 20 years. Cars, shops, and tour buses have apparently been burned in the capital. Depending on your sources, there are either ten dead shopkeepers burned to death by the rioters (official accounts) or eighty dead rioters shot by the crackdown (...actual reality accounts). I came by this information in bits and pieces, since most every source that I access is subsequently banned and shut down by the country. Youtube is gone for who knows how long because there is riot footage, apparently. I'm sort of pissed about not being allowed to use youtube, so I encourage all of you to seek out this riot footage and watch it as many times as possible just to piss of the folks who would rather no one be aware of this situation. It would be a ridiculous understatement to say that mass censorship of this degree makes me seethingly angry, and is certainly not convincing me of the correctness of China's (to quote Eddie Izzard) "Do you have a flag? No flag no country. According to the rules that I... made up... just now." arguments. (I apologize if the previous quotation is incorrect. I would double-check it on youtube, but...)
Long story short, I don't think that I'll be going to that place, as was the original plan. Dr. Sun hasn't told us about our contingency-plan trip yet, but I'll report on that as soon as I know.
In other, less serious news, I'd like to present the following dialogue between me and the personification of my shower this morning.
Me: Good morning, shower.
Shower: A fine morning indeed.
Me: How about a moderately temperate shower on this fine morning?
Shower: Hop on in!
Me: Shower, why are you scalding hot?
Shower: I'm sorry, why don't you turn down the dial?
Me: The dial is down to the very bottom. You are still searing my flesh. Wait a second, now you are spurting ice cubes.
Shower: Sorry about that, why don't you just turn me back up.
Me: Well I am, and I'm still near hypothermi--
Shower: BURN, capitalist pig!
... or something like that, at least.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Business Strategies is Still a Joke
But George Clooney is awesome. That's why, when handed yet another entirely vague set of directives to make up an entire marketing plan for an Italian furniture company within twenty minutes, I decided that he should be the cornerstone of our campaign. After the presentation, which also included lots of made-up numbers and impossible-to-really-know assertions, our teacher said "I like your idea for the celebrity spokesperson, but it brings up a question. What is the criteria for selecting the best celebrity spokesperson for your company?"
I made a decision-tree and gave it to her. It looked like this.
She laughed. Sometimes I feel like she knows that there's no real way to fill a two-hour class with relevant content based on the phrase "trouble the water to catch the fish."
I made a decision-tree and gave it to her. It looked like this.
She laughed. Sometimes I feel like she knows that there's no real way to fill a two-hour class with relevant content based on the phrase "trouble the water to catch the fish."
Monday, March 10, 2008
Weekly Update
Is this weekly now? I feel like I've cheated my original plan, but I feel as though the posts I do now are more content-rich. At least that's what I tell myself so that I can sleep at night.
Before I get into the actual weekly update, do you know what I found in China that really boosts my ego? Engaging in any sort of strength competition with small Asian girls. It's not fair, but fairness has very little to do with self-esteem.
FRIDAY
On Friday evening we took our first Chinese class field trip. We had been bugging Li Laoshi for a while to take us somewhere, and we settled on the Beijing Opera, at a place near Tienanmen Square called the Laoshi Tea House. To get there, we had to take the subway, which was...
It was as if an occult hand had reached out and saved the picture.
Amy, Maria and I inside modern art
SUNDAY
On Sunday afternoon I finally got to meet Daisy, my grandmother's friend and tour guide from almost twenty years ago. We met at the Wudaoku subway station and went to a local cafe for some tea and cake. She brought a friend with her who isn't quite a monk but still locks herself in Tibetan monestaries for months at a time. And also, she knows Gong-fu, the actually dangerous version of Tai Chi. She didn't speak very much English, but Daisy translated and every now and then I was able to throw out some Chinese vocabulary. Daisy invited me to Peking Roast Duck on Thursday night, and that's what Beijing is famous for, so it sounds good to me.
That evening, Will and I walked into the English Bar expecting to continue teaching Casablanca. Instead, we found that the TV had been moved and we had to make up a lesson on the spot. We talked about American politics for an hour and a half. Oh, and films and TV shows. They LOVE "Prison Break" here. In fact, every time I introduce myself to a room of Chinese people, they all chuckle and someone will yell "Michael Scofield!" like I know who that is. They enjoyed our lecture, though, and decided at the end that, if Forrest Gump were a real person, they'd want him to be President. I just imagined him sitting in a room full of high ranking officials saying "My momma always said..." and it made me laugh.
MONDAY
Tai Chi, Chinese, and laundry.
Movie review of the week: The Legend of 1900
One of our Chinese friends suggested this movie to Will and lent him her copy. It was made a while ago by an Italian director (who also wrote the script) and follows the life of a boy abandoned on a transatlantic steamer in the year 1900. I understood exactly why our Chinese friend (for whom English and American movies are both relatively new) liked it- there was a simple fable being told and lots of interesting music being played. The visuals are excellent, and the idea isn't bad, but still this has to be the most terrible good movie I've ever seen. I call it a "good" movie, not because it was, but because the all of the plot, action, scenery, and especially the dialogue- are all direct rip-offs of other, actually good movies. The director/writer, while perhaps having a good grasp on the English language right now, has no idea the way people talked 100 years ago. In any given scene, if one were to think of the most cliched, overdone thing that a character could possibly say in that given situation, I guarantee that The Legend of 1900 will blow your mind with its psychic abilities.
The film opens on a poor trumpet player in the street, talking in a voiceover about the past five years. He walks into a pawn shop, and immediately divulges far too much information about himself to the proprietor. He actually says "that's a piece of history right there, my horn. That horn is my life, mister." And THEN there's the pawn shop owner saying he'll give some low sum, and the trumpet player says "what?! this is real brass, mister. Like I said, it's my life. I can't just sell my life." and then he walks out, only to turn around and, with much effort, sell it. As he's walking out, a pained expression crosses his face and he says "just let me play it one more time!" And, of course, he is allowed to do so.
It's the first movie in a long time that I have legitimately stopped halfway through. Will and I just acted out the rest of the movie ourselves. Don't see this movie.
And now, having written all that, I suddenly remembered that I wanted to make either a reference to Jake Reeder in this post or ask him a question through it. I have no IDEA what that reference or question might have been, though. If anyone else would like to ask Jake Reeder anything, though, you can reach him by posting on the comments page. You don't even have to KNOW Jake Reeder to do it. Go ahead, you know you want to.
Before I get into the actual weekly update, do you know what I found in China that really boosts my ego? Engaging in any sort of strength competition with small Asian girls. It's not fair, but fairness has very little to do with self-esteem.
FRIDAY
On Friday evening we took our first Chinese class field trip. We had been bugging Li Laoshi for a while to take us somewhere, and we settled on the Beijing Opera, at a place near Tienanmen Square called the Laoshi Tea House. To get there, we had to take the subway, which was...
You know, a little crowded.
But that's OK because, though the crowds at the subway stations are huge, the discipline and order of every passenger is impeccable. It was eerie how quiet a mass of thousands of people could be while shuffling along in an orderly manner.
Once we were in the subway, we all became very close friends. I would show you how close, but my friends were enjoying my company so much that they got close enough so as to restrict all arm movement, so I couldn't get my camera out. As Lauren said, if we had been forced to take the subway before we all knew each other, it might have been awkward.
We made small talk amongst ourselves on the way there, and at some point Steve said something about Communists. Lauren and Maria launched into a chorus about how he wasn't allowed to do that here. Steve retaliated with a very loud diatribe about how no one could understand what he was saying so he could say whatever he wanted about Communists. The train stopped.
"Which door do we get out of?" said Steve.
"The one over there" said a helpful Chinese man behind him, pointing at the opposing door. Oh irony, what fun you are.
We made it to the performance with about ten minutes to spare, and they brought us several light snacks- pumpkin seeds, spring rolls, random balls of things that could either be covered in sugar or flour... the normal stuff. None of us had eaten, so we devoured the snacks available and then asked about getting more. After finding that each spring roll was only 1 kuai (.13 cents) we promptly ordered 35.
Now, the actual Beijing Opera turned out to be much better than I was expecting. I had prepared myself for two hours of solid glass-shattering screeches and overwrought gestures, but as it turns out, my preconceived notions were entirely wrong. Except for the costumes. I was right about those...
Once we were in the subway, we all became very close friends. I would show you how close, but my friends were enjoying my company so much that they got close enough so as to restrict all arm movement, so I couldn't get my camera out. As Lauren said, if we had been forced to take the subway before we all knew each other, it might have been awkward.
We made small talk amongst ourselves on the way there, and at some point Steve said something about Communists. Lauren and Maria launched into a chorus about how he wasn't allowed to do that here. Steve retaliated with a very loud diatribe about how no one could understand what he was saying so he could say whatever he wanted about Communists. The train stopped.
"Which door do we get out of?" said Steve.
"The one over there" said a helpful Chinese man behind him, pointing at the opposing door. Oh irony, what fun you are.
We made it to the performance with about ten minutes to spare, and they brought us several light snacks- pumpkin seeds, spring rolls, random balls of things that could either be covered in sugar or flour... the normal stuff. None of us had eaten, so we devoured the snacks available and then asked about getting more. After finding that each spring roll was only 1 kuai (.13 cents) we promptly ordered 35.
Now, the actual Beijing Opera turned out to be much better than I was expecting. I had prepared myself for two hours of solid glass-shattering screeches and overwrought gestures, but as it turns out, my preconceived notions were entirely wrong. Except for the costumes. I was right about those...
We were in the back. I'm so glad my camera has 30X zoom
There was a mixture of singing, music playing, dancing, martial arts, tumbling, sound-effects making, and even stand-up comedy. After the comedians came out, I asked Li Laoshi to translate some of the things that she was laughing at. One of the jokes was basically this:
1- "So there's a farmer, and he has three animals. A is pig. B is horse. C is dog."
2- "C is dog, B is horse. Pig is what?"
1- "A"
2- "What is A?"
1- "Pig."
And oh how the people did laugh. I feel, like I usually do, as though something was lost in the translation. In general, though, I am very proud that the Chinese people have now raised their humor to near-Abbot and Costello levels.
After the show, of which I have several short videos that I'll try to edit into something watchable, we took a group picture.
1- "So there's a farmer, and he has three animals. A is pig. B is horse. C is dog."
2- "C is dog, B is horse. Pig is what?"
1- "A"
2- "What is A?"
1- "Pig."
And oh how the people did laugh. I feel, like I usually do, as though something was lost in the translation. In general, though, I am very proud that the Chinese people have now raised their humor to near-Abbot and Costello levels.
After the show, of which I have several short videos that I'll try to edit into something watchable, we took a group picture.
Left to right: Heather, Me, Maria, Steve, Li Laoshi, Lauren, Jennifer, Anna
(classmates not present: CJ and Alisha)
(classmates not present: CJ and Alisha)
Many more pictures with various combinations of people were taken, and pretty soon Maria started jumping in shots to try and screw them up. I tried to stop her one time. I tell you this to explain the following picture, which I enjoy quite a bit.
It was as if an occult hand had reached out and saved the picture.
After returning to the Wudaoku subway, we all went to Pyro (even Li Laoshi!) for a post-opera drink.
SATURDAY
I signed up for a trip to go to the 798 art district. It consists of an enormous complex of former factories (textile mills, mostly) that were taken over by rogue artists in the late 80's and built into the center for the Chinese modern art movement. Once you're there, you're allowed to walk around and go into pretty much any building to see free, museum-quality modern art exhibits and put your finger on the pulse of the current trends. If you like art, you would love this place.
I wasn't able to get any pictures of the really cool stuff, because every building had a "no pictures" policy, but there was some pointillism, impressionism, abstract, sculpture, video (one about a man and his horse... and by horse I mean bike that he constructed a horse's head around), etc... If any of my friends got some sneaky shots, I'll post them in the next blog.
There was ONE place we were allowed to take pictures, and that was in an exhibit featuring the too-often-ignored medium of enormous mirrors. The highlight was a giant cube in the middle, the inside of which was all glass.
SATURDAY
I signed up for a trip to go to the 798 art district. It consists of an enormous complex of former factories (textile mills, mostly) that were taken over by rogue artists in the late 80's and built into the center for the Chinese modern art movement. Once you're there, you're allowed to walk around and go into pretty much any building to see free, museum-quality modern art exhibits and put your finger on the pulse of the current trends. If you like art, you would love this place.
I wasn't able to get any pictures of the really cool stuff, because every building had a "no pictures" policy, but there was some pointillism, impressionism, abstract, sculpture, video (one about a man and his horse... and by horse I mean bike that he constructed a horse's head around), etc... If any of my friends got some sneaky shots, I'll post them in the next blog.
There was ONE place we were allowed to take pictures, and that was in an exhibit featuring the too-often-ignored medium of enormous mirrors. The highlight was a giant cube in the middle, the inside of which was all glass.
Amy, Maria and I inside modern art
Saturday night we tried to watch V for Vendetta, but that turned out to be an epic fail as, after getting halfway through the movie, the computer we were watching on overheated. Instead, we (Jessie, Ben, Me, Will, Hillary) ended up sitting around and talking about bad roommate experiences we had in the past. Jessie and Ben currently live with a really nice guy who, at the same time, KNOWS he is a bad roommate and seems to revel in it. A prolonged and well-acted story involving his morning routine of waking up at 5AM and banging on every object in the room while simultaneously talking loudly to himself won out as being the most hilarious of the night.
SUNDAY
On Sunday afternoon I finally got to meet Daisy, my grandmother's friend and tour guide from almost twenty years ago. We met at the Wudaoku subway station and went to a local cafe for some tea and cake. She brought a friend with her who isn't quite a monk but still locks herself in Tibetan monestaries for months at a time. And also, she knows Gong-fu, the actually dangerous version of Tai Chi. She didn't speak very much English, but Daisy translated and every now and then I was able to throw out some Chinese vocabulary. Daisy invited me to Peking Roast Duck on Thursday night, and that's what Beijing is famous for, so it sounds good to me.
That evening, Will and I walked into the English Bar expecting to continue teaching Casablanca. Instead, we found that the TV had been moved and we had to make up a lesson on the spot. We talked about American politics for an hour and a half. Oh, and films and TV shows. They LOVE "Prison Break" here. In fact, every time I introduce myself to a room of Chinese people, they all chuckle and someone will yell "Michael Scofield!" like I know who that is. They enjoyed our lecture, though, and decided at the end that, if Forrest Gump were a real person, they'd want him to be President. I just imagined him sitting in a room full of high ranking officials saying "My momma always said..." and it made me laugh.
MONDAY
Tai Chi, Chinese, and laundry.
Movie review of the week: The Legend of 1900
One of our Chinese friends suggested this movie to Will and lent him her copy. It was made a while ago by an Italian director (who also wrote the script) and follows the life of a boy abandoned on a transatlantic steamer in the year 1900. I understood exactly why our Chinese friend (for whom English and American movies are both relatively new) liked it- there was a simple fable being told and lots of interesting music being played. The visuals are excellent, and the idea isn't bad, but still this has to be the most terrible good movie I've ever seen. I call it a "good" movie, not because it was, but because the all of the plot, action, scenery, and especially the dialogue- are all direct rip-offs of other, actually good movies. The director/writer, while perhaps having a good grasp on the English language right now, has no idea the way people talked 100 years ago. In any given scene, if one were to think of the most cliched, overdone thing that a character could possibly say in that given situation, I guarantee that The Legend of 1900 will blow your mind with its psychic abilities.
The film opens on a poor trumpet player in the street, talking in a voiceover about the past five years. He walks into a pawn shop, and immediately divulges far too much information about himself to the proprietor. He actually says "that's a piece of history right there, my horn. That horn is my life, mister." And THEN there's the pawn shop owner saying he'll give some low sum, and the trumpet player says "what?! this is real brass, mister. Like I said, it's my life. I can't just sell my life." and then he walks out, only to turn around and, with much effort, sell it. As he's walking out, a pained expression crosses his face and he says "just let me play it one more time!" And, of course, he is allowed to do so.
It's the first movie in a long time that I have legitimately stopped halfway through. Will and I just acted out the rest of the movie ourselves. Don't see this movie.
And now, having written all that, I suddenly remembered that I wanted to make either a reference to Jake Reeder in this post or ask him a question through it. I have no IDEA what that reference or question might have been, though. If anyone else would like to ask Jake Reeder anything, though, you can reach him by posting on the comments page. You don't even have to KNOW Jake Reeder to do it. Go ahead, you know you want to.
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