Through the Eyes of a Lao Wai

Being the Walrus

2015-09-16T18:14:00.003+08:00

Tianjin is a major metropolitan city of more than 10 million and so it is not uncommon to occasionally see other foreigners or laowai, particularly at the train station or near one of the many English teaching schools.

However, my neighborhood, Shengjing Community, has no such schools or major tourist attractions, and therefore is a laowai-free zone. I would guess from the looks and questions I get from the other residents of Yuguan Road area, that I am the lone laowai within at least a one kilometer radius.

I joke with my wife, as being a laowai has become a novelty not too far from owning a dog or cat. After meeting several of her coworkers, I imagined their conversations on the bus after I had seen her off in the morning.

"You have a laowai?!" One coworker that missed seeing me would ask my wife.

"Yes, he is my husband." My wife would answer.

"Oh, I love laowai(s)! Is it a white, black or brown one? A boy or a girl?" The excited coworker would ask further.

"He's white with blue eyes and he's house broken too!" My wife would say.

"Ohhhhh! I always wanted a laowai, but my parents wouldn't hear of it. I'm so jealous of you, Weili." The girl would say.

And so it goes...

Being the lone laowai of the Shengjing Community affords me the right to pee anywhere I please, to mark my territory and let other laowai's know that this is my turf.

It also allows me to stroll the streets and disrupt traffic, stop crying babies and arguing couples in their tracks at the instant sight of me.

I am the eggman,
I am the eggman,

I am the laowai! goo-goo-g'joob!

我们结婚了！(We got married!)

2015-09-13T08:25:00.002+08:00

We made it official after 4 long years. I am proud to say that Zhu Wei Li, aka, Vivian, Meimei (from my books), were married on the morning of September 7, 2015. Together with our daughter Li Xiang Ni (Aiai) we live in the city of Tianjin, China, just 30 minutes southeast of Beijing.

I have taken a break from writing the fourth book with everything happening lately and settling in our new place. I have recently decided to begin again and finish the last of the Forever Laowai series and the fourth book should be completed by the end of the year.

Thank you to everyone for your support and look for more Blog entries in the future!

Michael - Zhu Hua Long.

Pure Jasmine is Here!

2014-11-01T21:21:00.003+08:00

The third book in my Forever Laowai series has been released.

Pure Jasmine

Amazon Kindle $2.99

Get it here -> Pure Jasmine

A Nice Pair

2012-11-22T07:46:00.000+08:00

There's an old proverb, "Don't judge a man until you have walked a mile in his boots." Everyone knows it and knows the meaning. So what's my point?

The other day, I was putting on my old Reebok Classic tennis shoes. I've had these for about six years now and only got them because my old Reeboks had worn out after twelve years of use. I tend to wear them in in winter or when I'm traveling and think flip flops (my shoe of choice) aren't suitable for the day.

I'm one of those guys that needs little and does not follow fashion trends. I own one pair of tennis shoes and I'll wear them until they are worn out. I own two pair of blue jeans and know that I can only wear one pair at a time, so why have more? Two pair of khaki "Dockers" style trousers for when I need to dress up. I no longer own any suits. My significant weight fluctuation a few years ago made me give up on spending money for nice clothes when my size might change drastically, rendering them useless. I do have a sizable selection of Polo style shirts and my personal favorite, t-shirts. Just the standard type of t-shirt. I do have some dress shirts and whatnot, I just don't wear them unless I really have a need.

Back to the shoes...

I examined them closely for once and part of the logo is gone from one. It just reads, "R . . bo . " I began to remember and think about all the places these shoes have been. No distinctive place in history or anything, just well traveled. These shoes have taken me across eight countries on two continents, countless islands and numerous States within the US. They've strode through the streets of Singapore. They walked the route of the once great armies of the former Soviet Union in Red Square. Strolled on the boardwalks of Hong Kong along the South China Sea. Crisscrossed the island of Taiwan. Maneuvered the streets of Beijing and climbed the Great Wall of China, literally, thousands of miles of walking and they still feel great.

What stories can your shoes tell?

Happy Happy, Safe Safe!

2012-11-07T04:54:00.000+08:00

In Beijing proper, especially around the attractions downtown, it is common to see foreigners. But out in the other sections of the city, it is more of a rarity.

Recently I went to Langfang, on the southwest side of the Beijing to see the North Gate of Anci and to meet a friend for dinner. I arrived around noon and found a Sichuanese restaurant. Being a big fan of spicy noodles, I decided I would eat there. The name of the restaurant was Delicious Noodle King and even had English on the sign, which is probably why two German tourists had gone inside, unbeknownst to me.

They glanced sharply at me when I entered the restaurant, and then they looked away, as if they hadn't noticed. From my own trips in the past, I knew that this was a traveler's routine - you came to a remote place and resented the presence of any other tourists. But here, I wasn't a tourist, and to have other waiguoren treat me as if I had violated their solitude did not please me. I said nothing and sat at a table not far from the Germans.

They spoke no Chinese and hadn't been in the country long. They ordered by pointing at pictures on the wall. The waitress asked them if they wanted hot pepper on their noodles. The Germans did not understand, but they could tell from the waitress's tone that this was an important choice, and they began to thumb madly through a phrase book. I was resolved not to help until the acknowledged my presence.

They kept working at the phrase book until finally the waitress asked if I would translate. The Germans acted very surprised that I was there, and they said that they did not want hot pepper. I was tempted to tell the waitress that the Germans not only wanted hot pepper but seemed scornful of Sichuanese lajiao, scoffing that in the great country of Germany such a mild spice would be considered candy for babies. But I told her the truth. I realized that they were simply acting the way any traveler would, just as I had done myself in other places at other times.

We talked for a while and they couldn't believe that I lived in a place like this, because the attention overwhelmed them.

"These people," one of them said, "all they do is stare. Everywhere we go, they stare at us. Do they stare at you, too?"

"Yes," I said, "but not as much as they stare at you."

I hadn't intended it as an insult, but the women seemed to take it as such. I didn't care to explain that I simply meant that women attract more attention, especially foreigners. But I gave them my phone number out of courtesy, in case something went wrong, then I left them to go take my photos.

I past by a sign near an old abandoned factory:

"Happy Happy Go to Work, Safe Safe Return Home."

In Chinese you can double adjectives for emphasis, and that was a common propaganda message in factories and construction sites. I decided that that would be my mantra for the day: happy happy, safe safe. I repeated the words to myself as I hiked over to the North Gate.

I passed several other propaganda signs that celebrated construction:

"A Smooth Road Brings Prosperity and Drives Away Poverty."

I wasn't sure what it meant except to ensure the workers do a good job. There were signs dedicated to the planned-birth policy, whose catchphrases ranged from "Daughters Also Count as Descendants" and even some unsolicited advice, "Marry Late and Have Children Late." After I thought about it for a bit, I realized America is no different with its own propaganda machine. The "Don't Text and Drive", "It Can Wait" campaign comes to mind as one. And the threatening message displayed to Texas drivers on big Dept. of Transportation signs, "Drink. Drive. Go to Jail."

Eventually, I got the photos I wanted and met my friend as he got done with his shift at the hospital. Over dinner, I told him about the signs and the German women. He mentioned that not a lot foreigners come to Langfang. There's not much here to see for them. I told him they were passing through on their way south and their bus had broken down.

We talked a while and then I needed to catch my train back to Beijing. I told him about the newer types of trains they were testing for the trip from Beijing to Moscow. Nonstop and climate controlled. He said if I decide to go, he will arrange to take the trip with me. He said he's always wanted to see Russia.

I bid him farewell and took a taxi to the train station. The platform was almost deserted except for a young couple huddled together against one of the steel support beams and an old woman with a couple of bags. Soon the train arrived and I found a seat. I ignored the stares, slipped my arms through the straps on my pack, leaned against the back of the seat and closed my eyes.

Strangers on a Train

2012-11-06T08:37:00.002+08:00

In Chinese culture, there is something you should know about the concept of face or having face. Stemming from this, there are also the related concepts of losing face, of saving face, and even of lending face.

Face is a concept not hard to understand because, even as Westerners, everyone has face. When equated to Western values, face is very similar to the notion of reputation. Face is an ultimately important dynamic which applies to both personal and business relationships in China.

Corollary to face is the inseparable concept of guanxi or "relations". Face and guanxi work hand-in-hand. One without the other renders useless the dynamic these two concepts collectively work together. This tends to make the Chinese seem less "personable" to one another, lest they lose face.

From my perspective, as a waiguoren, I am outside the normal Chinese circles and I feel they feel more relaxed in sharing their personal problems, hopes, family issues, etc. Similar to the guy on the subway that strikes up a conversation with you and by the time you've reached your destination, know his life story, right down to the fact that his grand parents were never married. People tend to be able to tell complete strangers their most intimate secrets, because of that fact... They're complete strangers. They don't know who you know and vice versa. The Chinese are the same with foreigners that they befriend. I've heard things that I would never reveal and have shared things that I thought were acceptable in the West and that they would never reveal to another Chinese. Like being adopted. It's hard to explain why it is, but knowing someone's familial background carries a lot of weight in China. Such secrets are not revealed.

A friend of mine told me that she was getting a divorce and that her husband was making it difficult for her, to the point of dragging the court hearings out over several years. She has a young daughter that lives with her father. When I asked why, she explained that he made more money and could support her better. She went on to tell me that she wanted her daughter to be with her but the legal fees were rising. From her description, it was clear that her husband was fighting to keep the child out of spite for her wanting to divorce him. In the end, she told me that she had given up and let him have everything. She was completely drained financially and emotionally and just wanted out. I felt sorry for her that she couldn't be with her daughter. She simply replied, "mei banfa" Nothing she could do about it.

Another friend, whom I thought had an ideal marriage, confided in me that she hasn't loved her husband in over four years. She told me that when their daughter was born, it had been a disappointment to his family and therefore, he refused to help her with her postpartum recovery or the baby. She told me that she lost everything she felt for the man at that point and just went on, day after day because it was expected. Her own mother and father knew nothing of her true feelings. They are a more traditional Chinese family and divorce is not an option. When I see photos of her family, they look like a happy couple with a darling little girl. "It's just for show, I feel nothing for him." she told me.

These are stories I was told by women whom, I've never met. They are endless. Almost a stranger on a train. Just through getting to know them being penpals and English exchanges. They know that I don't know anyone that they know so there's no chance of them losing face for themselves or worse, their families. It's no wonder that female suicide in China is the highest in the world. I used to wonder why Chinese women rarely smile in photographs.

Although it's changing with the times, the old belief of males and females still exists... "Boys are gold, girls are worthless."

I wish them luck and reassure them that life is the most precious gift of all.

Mogui Shu Shu - Uncle Monster

2012-10-24T22:11:00.000+08:00

Adjusting to life in a different culture can be different for just about everyone. I've always felt myself to be pretty adaptable, having lived in several countries in the past. People always assume I'm a tourist until they talk to me for a few moments. I have always liked the challenge of living in China, and there is something about the foreigner's solitude that appeals to me. My neighbors accepted this. They understood that I was different, and that I spent a great deal of time alone, and they didn't judge me for that. They are curious only in the broadest sense. People often ask me what time it is in America, and they are always interested in how much something costs. They ask me detailed questions about what I eat or don't eat (and for those who know me, I'll eat pretty much anything). But they never inquire about my personal life, which is one reason I feel so comfortable here. They have seen my various visitors, both male and female and they couldn't have cared less, that is the distance between their world and mine.

The Chinese, although very friendly and hospitable, are not very trusting to waiguoren. I believe it comes from both foreign invaders throughout history and a lack of trust from within. You can be close friends with Chinese but you will always be a waiguoren.

Lu Desheng has a son named Xiao Rui. He is the smallest six-year-old I have ever known. I'll swear he weighs only forty pounds, and his mother frets about his health, because Xiao Rui is a finicky eater. He's kind of wiry and loves to roughhouse. At first, he was extremely shy and would only look at me from behind the protection of one of his parent's legs. He has become more curious in me, although if I would catch him watching me, he would quickly flee or pretended he was doing something else.

He called me mogui (monster) - his father told him to use the proper term of respect for an adult. That was how I came to be known as Mogui Shushu (Uncle Monster). He has begun to get used to me and that I am not really the mogui he first thought. Sometimes when I'm writing, I will turn and find him playing in the courtyard or in another part of the house. He is accustomed to entertaining himself and can play with whatever happened to be lying around. A broken planter, an old rake. Once he spent a morning in my courtyard, using an old cart and an empty beer bottle to pretend that he was driving a peddler's truck. I have bought him some toys and his father once told me, "That's a waste. He's only going to break it." And that was true, he wasn't used to having working toys so he might try stepping on it, or he'd twist some moving part until it snapped. After it was ruined, he didn't seem at all bothered, for Xiao Rui, a toy was a non durable resource.

The boy's face is a perfect oval. He has black hair cropped close, and long thin eyes that sparkle when he laughs. His ears are wonderful, that's often the most endearing feature of young Chinese boys, whose ears stick straight out, giving them a perpetually startled expression. It always makes me think of a taxicab driving down the street with the doors open. Neither of Xiao Rui's parents is particularly good looking, but the boy is handsome. Sometimes, I will annoy Wang Ping by praising him.

"Xiao Rui is such a good looking boy," I'll say.

"He's ugly," his mother would answer immediately.

"He's so smart."

"He's stupid," she'd say. "Not one bit smart."

"Cut it out," Wang Ping would say, in English, but I'd continue: "What a nice child."

"He's a naughty boy."

In China, traditional parents avoid flattery, and the mother's responses were automatic. She didn't want to spoil the child, but there is also the Chinese superstition that pride attracts misfortune. The only praise I've ever heard his parents give him was a single adjective: laoshi. It has several definitions, "honest", obedient and having a sense of propriety, and that is the closest they came to pride for the boy.

一個笑話 - A Joke

2012-10-22T22:51:00.003+08:00

有一個外國人來到中國。他的中國朋友請他吃飯。

There was a foreigner that came to China. His Chinese friends treated him to a meal.

剛坐下，一個朋友就說，“不好意思，我去方便一下。”

Just after he sat down, a friend said to him, "Excuse me, I'm going to go 'take a convenient.'"

他不理解是甚麼意思，坐在旁邊的一個朋友告訴他，方便就是上廁所的意思。

He didn't understand what that meant, and a friend sitting next to him told him that 'convenient' meant using the restroom.

“哦，是這個意思。”他很高興自己又學會了一個詞。

"Oh, that's what it means." He was happy to have learned another new word.

吃飯的時候，有一個朋友看他不太會用筷子，就對他說：“你用筷子方便嗎？”

While eating, a friend noticed that he wasn't good at using chopsticks, and said to him, "is using chopsticks convenient for you?"

他很吃驚，難道中國人用筷子上廁所？

He was really surprised. Could Chinese people use chopsticks when they go to the restroom?

他趕緊說：“我不方便。”於是，朋友就拿了一個勺子給他。

He quickly replied, "not convenient." Then his friend got a spoon for him.

吃完飯，要走的時候，另一位中國朋友熱情地對他說：“我想在你方便的時候請你吃飯。”

After eating, when it was time to leave, another friend enthusiastically said to him, "Whenever it's convenient, I want to treat you to a meal."

他覺得更奇怪了。

He thought that was even stranger.

中國朋友看他沒有回答，以為他不方便，就接著說：“如果你最近不方便的話，我們可以改天。”

His Chinese friend saw that he had no reply, thought it must be inconvenient for him, and continued, "If it's not convenient these days, we can do it another day."

這下，他完全不知道該怎麼回答了。

This time he really didn't know how to answer.

中國朋友又接著說：“沒關係啦，那就以後吧。以後找個你我都方便的時候一起吃飯。”

The Chinese friend continued again, "It's OK. Some other time then. In the future we'll find a time that's convenient for both of us to have a meal together."

聽完這句話，這個外國人就暈倒了。

After hearing that, the foreigner fainted.

Runnin' With the Devil

2012-10-19T08:37:00.000+08:00

We turn off Main Street and on to Royal Oaks Boulevard. Dana downshifts into second and we gain speed. The windows are down and I can feel the warm evening breeze of June fill the car as Van Halen's "Runnin' with the Devil" blasts out of his 8-track tape player. We fly down the street in his Dad's 1980 Chevy Chevette, affectionately referred to as "The Vette" to make it sound cool.

We wind through the residential neighborhood that is considered the rich part of town, but we are more concerned with the roller coaster like streets, rising and falling curving back and forth. We manage about 40 mph when we make a sudden left on Live Oak. Suddenly, we hit a patch of sand that has washed over the asphalt from a recent storm and The Vette spins 180 degrees and comes to a stop in the middle of the road.

When the dust clears, we look at each other, knowing that we haven't actually hit anything and nod our heads, "That was cool!" David Lee Roth singing, "I'm runnin', I'm runnin' ahhh yeah!" Dana shifts back into gear and pops the clutch. The tires spin out in the sand and quickly grip and we are off again...

It was a daily routine for us to road test the stability of the Vette under non-normal conditions. It was common for us to leave school, go to Sonic for a cherry Slush and then hit the streets of Royal Oaks. Sometimes we would come back during the evening hours, but mostly it was right after school. I didn't know how to drive a stick at the time and my lessons and going from first to fourth determined that I needed a lot more practice.

One day, I was over at his house and his Dad inquired to Dana why the tires were showing signs of wear on the sidewalls. Knowing exactly that rounding a corner at 30 mph would cause this, Dana told his Dad that he must have scraped the curb when he parked. I don't know if his Dad actually believed us, but it seemed to satisfy him at the moment.

We had great times back then. Haulin' ass in the Vette and hanging out on Friday and Saturday night at either Sonic or Video Pastimes, which was the local video arcade that were popular at that time. We all would park our cars in the lot and get out and joke and laugh with our classmates and friends.

Sometimes, several people would arrange to buy some kegs of beer and we'd all go out to Westlake Park and have a lake party. Some of the scenes from "Dazed and Confused" remind me of those times. Fearless and care free. That was the way it was in the late seventies and early eighties.

One time in particular, I remember hanging out around the arcade and someone mentioned a woman had hung herself and you could see her from the street. We all jumped in our cars and proceeded to the street where her house was. I thought to myself that someone would have cut her down by the time we got there. When we drove past, you could see the woman hanging there with her white wedding dress on. It was very erie and I remember crossing myself when I gazed upon her body. It was the first time I had seen a dead body that wasn't laid out in a casket. Someone said that the image gave them nightmares for a month.

Summers in Lake Dallas, Texas were some of the most fond and memorable moments in my life. I will always cherish them fondly.

I just wanted to share a little bit of time in my life that is still as vivid now as it was over thirty years ago.

Zi Jin Cheng - Forbidden City

2012-10-19T00:08:00.001+08:00

Every time I have visited Beijing, I am always drawn to explore the Forbidden City. It's shear vastness alone constitutes multiple visits to truly delve into it's history. Called Zi Jin Cheng in Chinese refers to Purple or North Star Forbidden Walled City. Forbidden, because no one could enter without the Emperor's permission. Some 10,000 residents once resided here at any given time in it's 600 year history.

Passing through the Meridian Gate (Wu Men), at the southern edge and opposite of Tian'an men Square, brings you into a plaza of vast proportions. Trees line the main walk to Duan Men gate. It is the busiest here as just inside the Duan Men gate is the ticket office. The cost is 60 yuan or about $10 US and well worth it.

There is an immense wall and moat surrounding the Forbidden City. The walls were built almost 9 meters thick, yes, that's about 27 feet thick, and 10 meters high. They were built in defense of an attack using cannons. The bricks of the wall are said to be made partly from white lime and glutinous rice while the cement is made partly from glutinous rice and egg whites! These incredible materials were said to make the wall extraordinarily strong.

I always feel a sense of time travel when I'm here. Wondering what life was like, what the daily activities consisted of. Would one by chance see the Emperor strolling from one building to another, surrounded by his minions? What would the experience be to witness various criminals being taken past Wu Men to be executed while the Emperor watched from high above? To be in Tian'anmen Square as Chairman Mao looked from his perch on Wu men at the vast sea of Chinese who had come to see his speeches.

I will visit the world's largest palace again and again and tell you more as I discover it further.

One last bit of information: I have found the best times to visit is early in the morning or at dusk. The sky is clearest early and at dusk the setting sun is beautiful against its red and amber architecture. It is busiest with tourists during the day, especially on the weekends. The Forbidden City is the most popular attraction in Beijing for tourists.

Kindred Spirits of Youth

2012-10-07T23:10:00.001+08:00

My excitement, wonder and a tad of apprehension begins to fill my brain as I push open the door to the MainEvent. I look around and wonder if the party I am to meet is here or if I'm early. I decide to just stroll around and see if I recognize anyone.

The venue is like a family arcade type of place with a bar, a bowling alley and various games that appeal to both children as well as adults. Laughter and sounds of these activities fill the area.
I see two women approaching. They are just casually walking, without a sense of purpose. As they come into better view, I recognize them and when we meet, almost formal introductions are made. "LDHS Class of 1982?"

We decide to get a table near the bar and wait for the others to arrive, basic chit-chat about what we've been doing and such passes the time.

Within an hour or so, others have arrived and the feeling of old friendships returns. Hugs are exchanged along with smiles and laughter.

We spent many years of our childhood together everyday. Some more than others, we were the Class of 1982. A small, almost tiny class, compared to the class sizes today of several hundred to several thousand, which I have always felt made us much more closer to each other.

Since then, we have spread out across the globe, living our individual lives. Families, children and now for some, grandchildren. Even though all couldn't attend, the ones that did come back to our old stomping grounds shared in the magic of being a teenager again. I don't know if the others share in my feelings, but when we are all get together, even if it is just for a couple of hours, it is like we are all cast back in time to relive and share the great times we had together. Telling stories of pranks, funny incidents in class or what we got away with down at the lake.

One person mentioned it was a good thing that we didn't have the convenience of cell phone cameras and Facebook as we would have been victims of our own fun. Some of the stories were always things we would never allow our own kids to do or is now considered illegal. Bonfires and keg parties down at the lake would not be possible even for us now.

Of course many photos are taken to capture the moment in time and shared amongst the class. Once the time together drew to an end, I left with a feeling of a special love for the others that I had lost somewhere along the way. We are like extensions of each others family, not like a distant cousin, but a small part of each other, connected by our kindred spirits.

As I look at these people, I don't see them as late 40's individuals. It's as if I was struck blind so many years ago and my memory replaces their faces with those of young adolescents.

Thank you, LDHS Class of 1982, for touching my life and making me a part of you.

Life is the Journey

2012-09-28T07:06:00.002+08:00

I wait for her at the station, up on the concrete stair. A train pulls in and the passengers exit, but she is not one of them. I sit down on a bench and open my book.

We have known each other for several years, yet have never met. We had agreed to at least spend some time together the next time I came to China.

Two hours later another train arrives. A woman emerges and appears like a lotus rising in the surrounding mud. I stand and suddenly feel my heart begins to race. My palms sweat and I feel smaller and smaller. She climbs the steps and peers up at me. In the sea of peasants heaving wicker baskets and cardboard boxes we are the only ones with empty hands. I call her name and she smiles and recognizes me.

"How long have you been waiting?" she asks.

"Only a few hours." I reply. "I wasn't sure which train you'd be on."

We stick together by each others side all day long. We go for a meal and talk about love and sacrifice. I tell her about the places I have been and what I have seen. We go shopping and she buy me some food for my continuing journey.

In the evening, we go to her place and sit in the dark and talk. She speaks of the men that are in love with her and of the studying she longs to do in America.

She keeps asking me again and again, "What is it you are looking for?"

"I just want to see your country, every river, every mountain. I want to see different people, different lives." I answer.

"Why are you traveling?", she asks.

"China is a black hole and I want to dive into it. I don't know where I'm going, I just know that I had to come. Everything I was I carry with me and everything I will be, lies waiting on the road ahead. I want to think on my feet, live on the run. Never again can I spend my life in one room." I say.

"Do you want to change this country?", she asks.

"I just want to know it, see it with my own eyes.", I reply. "I have met many friendly people here and I although I feel as though I can be accepted, I will always be a waiguoren to them."

"Do you feel I think this way too?" she asks, with a slight tone of hurt in her voice.

"You're different, but yes, I know I can never experience what generations of Chinese have passed down through the centuries. I can only respect it and learn." I say.

"America is such a young country with a limited history. When you add the diverse culture and ethnicity of the people, there is a sense of only being American, not all belonging to a single people that have fought and struggled since the beginning of civilization, like the Chinese." I continue.

She reaches out and touches my hand and then moves to sit next to me, tucking her feet underneath her.

"Would I be a laowai if I went to America?" She asks.

"No, because there are so many different types there that you would blend in." I reply. "Your accent would tell Americans that you were not born there." I tell her.

She tells me more about what she has been doing and that she was happy to see me on the platform waiting for her.

She gets up and turns on the light.

"We should get some sleep, it's almost morning.", she says holding out her hand.

I stand up and she says that I can sleep with her on her bed with one condition. "No touching" she says, waving a finger and tilting her head toward me.

"I promise."

#

I look down from the train entry at her. She has come with me to see me off. Her hair is gently blowing in the breeze as she waves. I admire her beauty. She is a good woman and I secretly wish she felt differently about me. The realization comes to mind that we are from very different walks of life and in China, only now are the Chinese beginning to accept mixed relationships.

I wave back as the train leaves the station.

As I sit in my berth, I wonder if I will ever see her again.

China Hand

2012-09-20T06:58:00.000+08:00

I decided to take a cheaper train from Wuhan to Chongqing, so I could stop if I wanted and then catch another later or perhaps the next day. I took a soft sleeper which is cheaper and you still get a bed to lie down on for naps and such.

I have found that although I stand out like a sore thumb as a waiguoren, it also has it's advantages. People want to talk to you, especially when they find out you can speak Chinese. They are both patient and courteous and will help you when you make mistakes.

I was sitting on my berth studying my Chinese which caught the attention and admiration from everyone from my cabin mates to passer's by. It was easy for a waiguoren to catch the attention of the Chinese as you are always in the spotlight. A woman seated across from me, one her way home to see her parents, showed particular interest.

"You are a zhongguotong.", she said. China Hand. Which means someone who is familiar with something exclusive to China or the Chinese, like language, history or politics.

"You are very diligent with your Chinese." She added.

"If I was more diligent, I would be much more proficient." I told her.
She seemed to have something on her mind and fidgeted for a few moments before responding.

"Are you Jewish?" She asked.

"Yes, I am", I responded.
Her eye's lit up with excitement and she smiled very happily.

"You are very clever! All Jews are very smart!" She said.

The Chinese have various stereotypes for waiguoren, all of which are based on word of mouth or hearsay. Jewish people are all very smart. Thailand is known for renyao or being transvestites or shemales. I laugh when I'm told about how these people are this and those people are that. Like the differences between northern and southern China. I always found it very funny that they have the same dislikes between the regions, just like we have in America.

At this point, studying was somewhat pointless because everyone around had heard the Jewish confirmation and began offering me fruit, tea and more questions. I was pleasant and accepted all, because to turn down an offer of food was an insult to the Chinese, especially if it was something they had paid for themselves.

"Where are you from?", "What do American's think about China?", "Why do you study Chinese?" were just a sample of the questions coming at me from all directions. Soon word spread on the train that a Chinese speaking, Jewish, waiguoren was on the train and the car began to fill. I posed for photos with many of them. Everyone was extremely friendly and courteous. I felt a little overwhelmed for a bit, like I was some celebrity or something. I became more humble.

After about an hour or so, the car attendant had grown weary of all the commotion and traffic that she ordered everyone to clear out and return to their cars. They all smiled, thanked me and some kowtowed as they left. I smiled and nodded or waved. It was getting late and I decided to lie back on my berth and take a little nap. I realized I was exhausted. I began to wonder how real celebrities do it, day in and day out.

Soon I drifted off as the sound of the train on the rails and the gentle rocking motion, lulled me to sleep.

An Afternoon in Ningbo

2012-09-17T03:35:00.000+08:00

While visiting a museum in the port city of Ningbo, I met a local railway mechanic in his late fifties who said he had come to teach his neice about the Revolution. She was eight years old, with pigtails and bright pink slippers. "The younger people in China don't know about the Revolution." her uncle said. "Our generation does, so I've taken her here to study our Chinese history."

He asked me what Americans thought about the Revolution, and I said that most people didn't understand it, which was the safest response. It always made the Chinese happy when waiguoren said that they didn't understand China. The mechanic and I talked for a while and then, as a polite way to show that the conversation was ending, he said solemnly, "Our two countries have taken different roads. But now we are friends."

"Yes", I said. "We can forget about the problems of the past." Many of my random discussions in different places tended to end like that. People seemed to feel a need to summarize relations between China and America, as if it had some great bearing on the conversation at hand. Often it was the first time they had spoken with an American, which made our interaction seem like a monuments occasion. I liked the aspect of spending time in remote parts of China where every casual conversation into a major diplomatic event.

That day, I had been in the mood to talk, so I sat on a bench near the entrance of the park. Within minutes an old man spotted me and quickly made his way over. He told me that he was a veteran of the Red Army, and he smiled when I said that I was American.

"Thank you for helping us in the War of Resistance Against the Japanese," he said. It wasn't the first time I had been thanked for my country's role in World War II. Chongqing cab drivers were particularly fond of expressing their gratitude, and I gave the old man the same response I gave the cabbies.

"Mei guanxi, " I said, (No problem).

I found that if I was walking or shooting photographs, people tended to leave you alone. Perhaps not wanting to disturb you, as the Chinese are very polite and respectful. But if I sat somewhere like a park bench, they looked at this as an opportunity either to learn more about a waiguoren or in the case of younger Chinese, speak English with a native speaker.

After the old man was finished, a young university student, who was standing amongst the small crowd that I had attracted heard my strange Chinese accent and asked me where I had learned Chinese. After I told her that I was still learning, I asked her if she spoke English. She looked down and said that she had been studying English but her English was very poor. I reassured her that with practice she could be fluent someday, perhaps an interpreter for the Ministry of Communications in Beijing, and that seemed to brighten her spirit.

In China as opposed to the US, teachers do not give praise to students for effort. Only when the subject has been mastered do they give their approval. It's the way it has been done in China for centuries. Personally, I think giving a little praise and encouragement is the extra fuel that drives a person to want to learn more.

We talked for a few minutes longer. She asked of it was true that most Americans didn't understand China, and I agreed. I wasn't going to start a discussion on the differences between our cultures.
On my way out of the museum, I passed a row of souvenir stands, where they sold Mao pendants, Communist Party history books, fake jade, cloth hangings, necklaces, gourmet rice.

The hawkers murmured to each other as I left. "Laowai"(foreigner) , "Waiguoren" (Person from another country), "Da bi zi" (Big nose)

I just waved and kept walking...

Cultural Observations

2012-09-15T03:30:00.001+08:00

I recently came across an interesting essay from a young Chinese university student titled, "Why Americans Are So Casual." I was intrigued by "Richard's" observations of his English teachers in China:

I'm a Chinese. As we all know, the Chinese nation is a rather conservative nation. So many of us have conservative thinking in some degree. I don't know whether it is good or bad.
Our foreign language teachers - Frank and Sharon - came to teach us this term. It provides a good opportunity of understanding the American way of life. In my opinion, they are more casual than us Chinese people. Why do I think so? I'll give you some facts to explain this.
For example, when Mr. Carpenter is having class, he can scratch himself casually without paying too much attention to what others may say. He dresses up casually, usually with his belt dropping and dangling. But to tell you the truth, it isn't considered a good manner in China, especially in the old people's eyes. In my opinion, I think it is very natural.
Last week, when Miss Thompson gave us a lecture on the American election, she took off her woolen sweater and tied it to her waist. To us Chinese people, it's almost unimaginable. How can a teacher do that when he/she is having a lesson! But thank goodness, we major in English and know something about America, it didn't surprise us. But if other people saw this, they might can't believe their eyes.

I have tried to be mindful of the different cultures when I travel. Be polite and courteous, etc., and yet the last time I visited Beijing, I was told by a good friend that it was very obvious that I was a waiguoren (person from a foreign country). She wasn't specific, but I could probably guess it was one of the times I did something silly.

The items mentioned in the essay seem perfectly normal behavior for an American, yet Richard found them to be alien and culturally taboo in China.

Another example would be enjoying a nice spring day eating lunch in the park. For an American to sit in the grass, eating a sandwich, feeling the warm sunshine on their face is perfectly normal behavior in the US, but would draw raised eyebrows and hushed murmurs if a Chinese did the same thing in China. They simply don't do that sort of thing. Americans are taught to enjoy life and "Stop and smell the roses". Asians, in general, are not. Face is very important and to show signs of relaxation or leisure activities outside of the designated time for such activities, then they will dishonor their families. And not just the immediate family but generations of ancestors that toiled every moment of their life to look, act and carry on the respect of the family. "How can you sit there and do nothing when your grandparents worked 18 hours a day in the fields to help the revolution!" is the mentality of the masses. To lose face is worse than death to most Asians.

Although Americans care about our dignity, we also care less about what most think about us. As an individualistic society, we are taught that "chase your dreams", "live and let live" and "if you try hard you can do anything you want". The individual is king. The Chinese are taught that the individual is last. In their socialist history, "The People" comes first. Individuality was a Western, Imperialist evil. I'm not saying whether either is right or wrong, I'm just pointing out some of the cultural differences.

In China, you would never see a family's elderly just dumped off at a nursing home and left to the care of non-family. Although filial piety was considered to be one of the "Four Olds" during the Cultural Revolution, (Old Customs, Old Culture, Old Habits, Old Ideas) it never stuck and soon people returned to their Confucian beliefs in a strong family unit.

In America, kids can't wait to turn eighteen and go off to college or start their own individual lives. It's the strong sense of individuality that was wrought from America's break from Britain and become... Independent.

The Best Teacher

2012-09-12T03:14:00.002+08:00

Cultural differences between East and West are endless. Even when something seems normal to those of us from the West, may be completely opposite in the East.

When it really comes down to it, who do you want to take advice from, a pontificating pseudo-intellectual like Dr. Phil or someone who actually admits to having made mistakes and has learned from them, quite often the first time?

I believe that the best advice comes from experience, not theory. On that basis, let me share some recently acquired bits of wisdom from my experiences in China.

1. When engaged in a multi-party dispute, never mention calling the police. Even those who agree with your point of view will abandon you like friends on moving day.

2. Should you ever acquire a frequent customer discount card from somewhere called "Stairway To Love", do not leave it laying around for your significant other to find, especially if she is Western too. Just try to explain that it’s a café. Really!

3. When a woman gushes forth about how her son is the smartest child in town, do not reply by saying that, "All mothers feel that way."

4. If you don’t absolutely know the proper Chinese term, do not try to wing it, especially in front of a crowd. This is especially true if you are trying to explain the verb “to brag”, which term in Mandarin is surprisingly similar to the slang for performing fellatio.

5. When a Chinese woman gives you something disgusting to eat, just shut up and eat it. Your 20th attempt to explain your revulsion will be no more effective than any of the other 19.

6. If you want something from the supermarket, get it yourself. You would be amazed what some people will consider to be an acceptable, or an even preferable, substitute. Coconut bread and tripe do not a ham sandwich make.

7. Don’t try to correct obnoxious, drunken, 22 year old know-it-alls in bars. Let’s face it – you’re incredibly outnumbered.

8. Even though you know you're being watched, resist the urge to stare back as it is considered an invasion of privacy. Remember you're the odd man out here.

I'll add more, but hopefully, not too many.

Hutongs of Beijing

2012-09-09T22:27:00.001+08:00

There’s something fantastical about the rickety looking rickshaws that scoot around Beijing. Okay, there are humans driving the things, but they seem too casual, too philosophical, to be in control, in the western sense of the word. No eyes blinking -- forward looking -- focused. No white knuckles. No fear. Absolutely no attachment to minutiae, like survival, even in the face of China's big city traffic.

I don’t know, I just think I’d rather walk.

Doesn’t matter really. One moment I’m walking away from the Forbidden City, the next I’m in one of them, the crazy three wheelers, hurtling, against the snarl of traffic, toward the ancient hutong city.

Now I know there are rickshaw tours and people go on them and come back alive and unhurt but these guys are loners, cowboys. They screeched up to me and offered their completely unofficial services and for some reason I threw caution to the wind. That’s what being a foreigner in a foreign land does to the human psyche.

I see the long dark tunnel and a light at the end. I let go. Before I know it I’m enjoying myself, laughing, as approximate as the transport, as I fly miraculously through too-narrow spaces between long lines of cars, up sidewalks, down ancient alleys.

All of a sudden I feel so integral to the landscape. It opens its arms wide and, like Alice’s rabbit hole, I simply fall in. Another world rises to meet me. The wind rushes at my face, pushing the corners of my mouth into a big Buddha grin.

As I enter the endless network of ancient alleys the pace slows and time is left standing. I skirt around a party of tiny human beings in crisp blue and white uniforms heading home from school down the alleys, singing. A lone toddler squats unselfconsciously, face close to the ground, attending to some earthly thing of sticks and stones.

Who am I kidding, I am conspicuous; a laowai but, in spirit, I somehow blend in, or I feel I do. Life is simply going on around me, just as it has done for hundreds of years.

The homes and alleys and courtyards are beginning to come alive. The workday is almost over and the sun is losing faith in itself beyond the city smog. On my left three men without shirts are constructing a perfect clay tile roof, tile upon baked tile carefully placed on a bamboo framework. They look like neighbors and the design and method they use is simple and timeless.

I curve slowly round a man as he cuts the squawking throat of tonight’s dinner while chatting to a neighbour across the dusty alley.

I pass the Hutong version of a strip mall. Here points of light cut the dusk and oddly out of place signs baldly proclaim “Cerveza” as the beer of choice. I find myself staring straight at a woman in a store window, actually it’s a hair salon. Our eyes meet. She is sitting in a plastic chair with a giant dome hair dryer over her head. I am reaching for my camera. She waves me away dismissively. What kind of human wants to photograph another mid grooming ritual. I feel ashamed, like a tourist.

My seemingly casual two hour journey stops abruptly at a store on the outskirts of the tiny mall. I don’t really want to stop here but I don’t want to argue with him either. Inside it’s small and badly lit but I slowly see why it’s the last stop. Around me are mugs, trinkets, calendars, postcards, wall hangings, all printed with line drawings of the Hutongs. Quietly, my tour of this age old lifestyle is over, so... here’s the T shirt.

The Incurable Wound

2012-08-26T05:58:00.000+08:00

A long time ago, there lived a child called Ling-ling who was a good artist. After her mother's death, her father's favorite concubine began to maltreat her by showing preference towards her own children. Ling-ling had no one to play with and spent her time painting. Her pictures became famous and were sold for many taels of silver. Her stepmother now grew jealous.

One night, she crept up to Ling-ling's bed and stuck a dirty nail into the child;s hand, spreading feces on the nail to cause an infection. In a few days, Ling-ling's hand became red and swollen. Though the nail was removed, pus poured from the wound. However, Ling-ling continued to paint.

Now a strange thing happened. The wound never healed, but Ling-ling's painting became better and better. The more the pus exuded, the greater the beauty of her work. In the whole of China, there was nothing like it. The pain in her hand seemed to imbue Ling-ling with the essence of invincibility, enabling her to zhan er bi sheng, dou er bi ke (prevail in every battle, overcome each adversity)

The Emperor himself heard of Ling-ling's masterpieces. She was summoned to the palace to paint the portrait of the crown prince. They fell in love and married. However, despite the administration of innumerable poultices prescribed by the best doctors in China, Ling-ling's wound would not heal. She continued to paint superbly until her death at a ripe old age.

From the book, Falling Leaves by Adeline Yen Mah

The Night Of Sevens

2012-08-23T21:57:00.001+08:00

Happy Qixi (七夕) festival! As today is the seventh of July (七月初七 qīyuè chūqī) according to the Chinese lunar calendar, it’s a special day for single women and couples alike. Literally meaning “The Night of Sevens”, Qixi celebrates the love, loyalty and commitment between lovers, as well as every single lady’s right to wish for her own Prince Charming to enter her life.

In recent years, Qixi has become known as Chinese Valentine’s Day, but it is by no means the exact equivalent of the Western day of romance. Qixi was originally a celebration based on the night sky. If you can somehow avoid the urban light pollution and be lucky enough to find some clear skies tonight, you’ll be able to observe a sad and symbolic reunion of a couple cruelly separated by a broad and powerful river…As you may already have guessed, the couple are really just personifications of two stars that lie on either side of the Milky Way.

For observers in the northern hemisphere, face south and look up right above your head around 10 p.m CT. The Milky Way should appear as a glowing band scorching the sky from north to south. Look for a bright blue-white star to the west of and above the Milky Way—this is Zhinü Xing (織女星, the Weaving-girl Star), the estranged wife of the love story. Below the Milky Way to the east is her forlorn husband, Niulang Xing (牛郎星, the Herd-boy Star), or Qianniu Xing (牵牛星, [the boy] Holding Cattle Star).

For those who are not familiar with the lovers’ story: As a goddess, Zhinü falls in love with Niulang, a mortal farm boy. They swiftly get hitched and have two children on earth, but the Queen Mother of Heaven (王母娘娘 wángmǔ niángniang) is furious to discover this forbidden celestial–mortal love and separates them on either side of the aforementioned river.

Qixi is the only night of the year the couple is allowed to reunite—by crossing a bridge formed by magpies (鵲橋quèqiáo). If you happen to see a meteor shoot across the Milky Way tonight, it is said to be a lantern held by one of the couple as they cross the bridge to meet the other. On Niulang Xing’s left and right are two slightly dimmer stars, representing the couple’s two children.

In modern astronomy, Zhinü Xing is known as Vega, the brightest star of the constellation Lyra. Being the second-brightest star of the entire northern celestial sphere, after Arcturus, Vega should be fairly easy to spot. Niulang Xing is known as Alpha Altair, the brightest star in the constellation Aquila. The supposed children of Niulang and Zhinü are Beta Altair and Gamma Altair. Together with Deneb, the brightest star in the constellation Cygnus, the three stars form the prominent “Summer Triangle.” Take a look at the picture and see if you can find the triangle for yourself. The truth about Zhinü and Niulang is nothing like the Qixi legend. The two stars are approximately 16.4 light years away from each other and show no signs of getting closer.

Now that you’ve found these stars, you may be interested (though perhaps unsurprised) to know that traditional Chinese astronomy operates under an entirely different system of stars and constellations than that recognized by the International Astronomical Union.

Astronomy was a serious business in ancient China. As long as 4,300 years ago, an astronomical officer was already regarded as an important position in a tribe. His duty was to “觀像授時(guānxiàng shòushí),” or observe and record the movements of celestial objects, and formulate a calendar to guide the daily lives of his people, especially their agricultural activities.

As early as the Shang Dynasty (2070 B.C. – 1600 B.C.), the sky was divided into 31 regions, each consisting of a group of stars. The Three Enclosures (三垣 sānyuán) formed the centerpiece of the northern night sky, and can be observed all year around. Ancient Chinese thought of them as the residence and work place of the Jade Emperor (玉帝 Yùdì) and his ministers, as well as the busy downtown streets they governed.

Surrounding these central three regions are the remaining 28 star clusters, known as the Twenty-Eight Mansions (二十八宿 èrshíbā xiù), which can only be observed at certain times of the year. They were further divided into four groups of seven, one for each of the four cardinal directions. Four mythological creatures were assigned to represent these four regions: the Azure Dragon (青龍qīnglóng) for the East, the Vermillion Bird (朱雀 zhūquè) in the South, the White Tiger (白虎 báihǔ) in the West and the Black Tortoise (玄武 xuánwǔ) for the North. Collectively, they are known as the Four Symbols (四相 sìxiāng), and were used by ancient Chinese to represent the four main points of the compass.

Besides the folk story, Niulang Xing and Zhinü Xing are important stars in officials record, too. Both belong to the region of the Black Tortoise, though they appeared under different names. According to the star chart reference book 《儀象考成》 (yíxiàng kǎochéng ), revised in 1752 under royal command, Niulang Xing is also called Hegu Er (河鼓二, the second star of the river drum). Together with the two nearby stars, they were thought to be the drums used by the heavenly troops as they rested by a river. Zhinü Xing is officially known as Zhinü Yi (織女一, Weaving-girl one).

Chengyu - Chinese Idioms

2012-08-14T03:26:00.003+08:00

成語 literally "to become (part of) the language" are widely used in Classical Chinese, a literary form used in the Chinese written language from antiquity until 1919, and are still commonly used in vernacular writing today. Classical Chinese can be compared to the way Latin was used in the Western world in science until recently. According to the most definition, there are about 5,000 Chengyu in Chinese, though some dictionaries list over 20,000.

Chengyu are mostly derived from ancient literature. The meaning of a chengyu usually surpasses the sum of the meanings carried by the four characters, as chengyu are often intimately linked with the myth, story or historical fact from which they were derived. As such, chengyu do not follow the usual grammatical structure and syntax of the modern Chinese spoken language, and are instead highly compact and synthetic.

Chengyu in isolation are often unintelligible to modern Chinese, and when students in China learn chengyu in school as part of the Classical curriculum, they also need to study the context from which the chengyu was derived. Often the four characters reflect the moral behind the story rather than the story itself.

For example, the phrase "破釜沉舟" (pò fǔ chén zhōu) literally means "break the woks and sink the boats." It was based on a historical account where General Xiang Yu ordered his troop to destroy all cooking utensils and boats after crossing a river into the enemy's territory. He won the battle because of this "no-retreat" policy. The phrase is used when one succeeds by burning the bridges. This particular idiom cannot be used in a losing scenario because the story behind it does not describe a failure.

Another example is "瓜田李下" (guā tián lǐ xià) which literally means "melon field, under the plums." It is an idiom that has a deeper meaning that implies suspicious situations. It is derived from an excerpt from a poem "樂府詩'君子行'"(yuè fǔ shī "jūn zǐ xíng") from the Han Dynasty. The poem contains two phrases "瓜田不納履，李下不整冠" (gūa tián bù nà lǚ, lǐ xià bù zhěng guān) which describe a code of conduct that says "Don't adjust your shoes in a melon field and don't tidy your hat under the plum trees" in order to avoid suspicion of stealing. The literal meaning of the idiom is impossible to understand without the background knowledge of the origin of the phrase.

However, some idioms such as "空穴來風" (kōng xué lái fēng), literally "an open hole draws the wind" which means to lay one's self open to criticism.

That is not to say that all chengyu are born of an often told fable. Chengyu which are free of metaphorical nuances pervade amidst the otherwise contextually-driven aspect of modern Chinese. An example of this is 言而無信 (yán ér wú xìn), literally "speaks yet without trust", which refers to an individual who cannot be trusted despite what he says, or essentially a deceitful person. The idiom itself is not derived from a specific occurrence from which a moral may be explicitly drawn, instead, it is succinct in its original meaning and would likely be intelligible to an individual learned in formal written Chinese. Note that the character 言 (yán) is no longer used as a verb in modern Chinese.

Some of my favorite Chengyu are;

1. 對牛彈琴 (duì niú tán qín) - "Play the lute to a cow." This Chengyu idiom describes the wasted effort of talking to someone, who just can’t or won’t understand the message.

2. 雞蛋裡挑骨頭 (jī dàn li tiāo gǔ tou) - "Picking bones from an egg" This Chengyu idiom describes the type of person who is constantly searching to find faults in everything and anything, for it refers to someone who is trying to find something that doesn’t exist. Like a bone in an egg!

3. 不三不四 (bù sān bù sì) - "Not three and not four" This Chengyu idiom describes something being dubious or some neither one thing nor the other.

4. 張三李四 (zhāng sān lǐ sì) - "Zhang's third child, Li's fourth child" Since both Li and Zhang are very common surnames in China, it means "Any Tom, Dick or Harry" or that it could be anyone.

I enjoy reading the stories behind the Chengyu as well as trying to figure out their meanings. In America and as well as England, we have many idioms that have a long history and interesting origins. Recently, a Chinese friend of mine asked me the meaning of "Pulling one's leg", I had always known it, but never really considered it's origin. I did some research, wanting to know the origin myself. It comes from old Scotland when to trip a man or "pull his leg" was a way to send him into a state of confusion. So pulling a man's leg became an idiom of telling someone an false fact in good humor.

Be a Traveler, Not a Tourist

2012-06-12T03:58:00.003+08:00

Traveling in China was an incredible and wonderful experience for me. I met many friendly people and saw many places that most Chinese never get to see. It's really no different in that aspect than to say that most Americans never visit many of our own popular attractions. Many Chinese have never been to the Great Wall, just as many Americans have never been to Yellowstone National Park, myself included.

Exploring different cultures makes traveling to distant lands that much more fun and adventurous. As an American, we are spoiled to the conveniences of today. I'm not saying that these conveniences are not available overseas, they are just not as widespread as they are, here in the U.S. Prior to my trip to China, I had read about other people's experiences and their recommendations, if any. One in particular was, "Getting an intestinal bug in China is not a matter of 'if' but 'when". It was worded a bit more graphically and I definitely heeded the advice. I asked my physician for some prescription strength anti-diarrhea medication, just in case. The traditional style toilet in China is very different from the Western world and one must squat to relieve oneself, with no seat. Also, most public toilets lack tissues to complete the "paperwork". Luckily, I never needed the medication and my hotel rooms had plenty of tissue.

As far as food, I think Chinese and Taiwanese food are wonderful explorations in the culture. Many dishes have been handed down through generations, especially foods prepared during holiday celebrations. I am always somewhat disappointed when I hear of someone who has just returned from a trip, usually business related, from either place and learn that they ate every meal at the corner McDonald's or other American fast food establishment. I feel that they missed out on an adventure of gastronomic delight and may never get another chance again. I think my favorite part of traveling around in either place is discovering what goodies they have for me to try. Andrew Zimmern said it best, "Sharing food is a bridge to understanding other cultures, be more adventurous in your food choices when in a new place rather than trying to search out what's familiar." when describing foods from other foreign lands. I agree and practice this even in America. I have mentioned the wonderful night markets that are famous in Taiwan. Wonderful examples of local street snacks that you can get for almost nothing. China has similar vendors selling local street snacks, just not as organized or centralized as the night markets of Taiwan. Mostly located near tourist attractions or main crossroads in non-tourist areas in the cities.

Having an open mind when foraging for something to eat might introduce you to your next "most favorite food". Sometimes it's better to eat it and then find out what it was that you just enjoyed. When I first arrived in Korea, back in 1985, my knowledge of seafood was reading the ingredients on a Mrs. Paul's Fish Sticks box. One night I was out with some of my friends at a bar when someone mentioned they were hungry. Two of the girls got up and said they would go and get some snacks for all of us to eat. I found myself a bit hungry and looked forward to some french fries or something. When they returned, they were carrying four or five paper cones with various fried and discernible snacks. One of them handed me something and told me to try it.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Just eat it and then we'll tell you. It's ok, don't worry." another answered.
I took the small deep fried battered object and ate it. Suddenly my mouth was filled with such delight. It was one of the most delicious snacks I had ever eaten. They waited for me almost holding their breath, watching my reaction with their undivided attention. My face must have been the reaction they expected as they all began smiling and laughing.
"This stuff is wonderful!" I said, "What is it?" I asked taking another piece and popping it into my mouth.
"Fried Squid", one of them answered.
I had fallen in love and made sure that from that day on, if possible, I would have my daily fix of fried squid. And I agree that it was better to have eaten it with an unbiased, untainted, honest opinion then to tell me what it was before. At 20, I wasn't exactly an adventurous eater and although I wasn't above trying something new, squid would not have been on the "to do" list. Once I left Korea, I was soon disappointed to find that Calamari, even in the finest of restaurants is no substitute for fresh fried squid from an open air market in Asia.

What maybe alien or bizarre to one culture maybe a staple for another. Many countries eat what they grow and don't have the luxury of being choosy or finicky in their culinary choices. They eat what they have or they go hungry. Ever notice that your average dog will eat just about any brand of dog food that is presented? To him, it's just food. I'm not saying that I will actually eat anything, but I am open to at least trying it, no matter how exotic. I remind myself that, "If other people have been eating it, so can I." If we can overcome our psychological barriers and be open to trying new things, then we can begin to understand and appreciate other cultures and customs and maybe make some new friends along the way.

Be a traveler, not a tourist.

Hong Kong, Borders and Bidding Farewell

2012-06-06T03:09:00.000+08:00

Bidding Farewell

The last full day was spent strolling through some of the more scenic parts of downtown Shenzhen, not too far from Window of the World park. I stopped to take a few photos here and there but nothing to make specific notes about. I have come to the conclusion that, even though they seem to be a landscaping nightmare, I really love to see established Banyan trees. The way their roots twist and knot together, almost like vines in a rainforest. The abundant shade and atmosphere they produce. Properly maintained, and that would be a chore in itself, they create a feel of an ancient society. It's something we have little to none in America, yet they are found in just about every park or recreational area that I've visited in China, especially in the southern regions. I know it's just a tree but to me it's one of those "stop and smell the roses" things.

On the subway, I encountered a couple and their daughter. She appeared to be about three years old and could not take her eyes off of my "lao wai" appearance. The train wasn't crowded yet, so they allowed her stand in front of them and hold on to the center pole in the car, just like a big person. When I motioned to her parents to take a photo of the little beauty, they both nodded and smiled graciously. I would take a photo or two and then show them. They were pleased and you could tell they were proud of their little one. As the train took on more and more passengers, she returned to her mother's lap and finally disappearing from my view entirely. Children make great photographic subjects, especially very small children, too young to know how to be hams in front of the camera.

I had dinner in a favorite restaurant of my guests and sampled everything from goat's spine to spicy rabbit heads. I didn't get any photos as I thought it impolite in a more formal style of restaurant and besides, my fingers were too messy to be handling the camera. The table next to ours was quite boisterous as the alcohol flowed amongst the guests. It consisted of four young women and a couple of young men, all appearing to be recently off from their work. As with most consumers of the spirit, their inhibitions loosened a bit and they decided to engage me and my guests in toasts to happiness and good fortune. They commented on the food that I was eating and laughed when I tried something and reacted with a little drama as to the level of spiciness something may have. We all had a great time.

I had to get up around 5:00 AM on Sunday because I was to fly out of Hong Kong at 11:00 AM. Six hours may seem like plenty of time, and it really was, but I don't like to feel rushed and I still had to properly exit China, which I hadn't done before so I wanted more than enough time, just in case. I got on the bus near their apartment and was told it would take me to the Demarcation point. It was a long ride of more than two hours. It was a city bus and stopped at all the stops or almost every block along the way. I watched a young mother holding a very young little baby boy who was smiling at everyone and being curious about everyone and everything. I took many photos of him, trying to capture the perfect shot of that happy, toothless smile, but alas, I could not capture what my eyes saw.

The bus stopped at the border point and I exited. I had to walk through a series of corridors and cordoned paths, up stairs and down stairs to finally see the immigration booths. They did not allow photography and segregated people into two categories. Chinese Citizens and Foreigners. They were equally crowded, but the Citizens section had maybe 10 agents clearing people, while the Foreigners section had 2 agents. When I passed through I still had to clear customs. I chose the "Nothing to Declare" and left China. Then I entered a hall which had the same set of gates and turnstiles to enter Hong Kong. As soon as I entered, "officially", I exchanged what RMB I had to HKD (Hong Kong Dollars). I was going to need a ride or shuttle to the airport and I knew they would not take Chinese currency. While standing in line to clear Hong Kong customs, I was approached by several people offering a shuttle/ride to the airport. The price was only $120 HKD and it would take me and others, straight to our terminals. I took a chance and the guy put a decal on my shirt.
As soon as I cleared customs, another guy was waiting for me to take me to the shuttle bus. I followed him like a I had done this a hundred times, putting my trust in a complete stranger for about $15 bucks. He walked me around through this door and over here and there. One thing that caught me as odd was these guys had no special ID's on their person to be seen, yet they could walk between China and Hong Kong without passing through immigration or customs. Seemed a bit lax in border control. Finally, I was brought outside to a parking area with probably 20 or so mini-vans waiting. My bags were taken from me and placed in the back and I was shown my seat. I was the first one for this van so I waited a while until we were literally full, about 8 people not including the driver.

When we reached the official checkpoint, similar to a toll booth in some cities, we all surrendered our passports to the driver whom then gave them to the person in the booth. I noticed that about 10 cameras were positioned outside the van, one for each angle. My name was called and once I leaned forward toward the booth, the guard nodded. No one said anything during the check. Our passports were returned to us and we continued on our way to the airport.

As we passed over one of the nine beautiful, cable suspension bridges in Hong Kong, I remember thinking, "Wow, back home in Dallas, we have only one". We also passed through a tunnel that was very long. I am only familiar with Kowloon peninsula and haven't been this close to China before so I was clueless as to where we were, exactly. I did enjoy the ride as it was scenic and the weather was good. Soon we arrived at the airport and I was dropped off at Terminal 1 for United Airlines. I had used the kiosk check-in here before, but none of the machines were on. I was quickly checked in and proceeded to the next step. Of course, I had to officially, leave Hong Kong and that meant more Customs and Immigration lines as well as airport security. When all was said and done, I had about an hour until I was to board my flight. I was finally able to relax as I was here and simply waited for the wonderful staff at United to begin our "boarding process". (I said that because I have a good friend that works for United in Hong Kong).

I have to speak a moment about how passengers act in regards to boarding an aircraft. I like to get on the plane and get all situated and comfortable as much as the next guy and without waiting. The plane is not going to leave without you, if you are here and have everything that is needed. There was this guy who, because he was "priority boarding" meaning that he had a few miles accumulated, thought he could just walk up and be allowed to board before his boarding group number. I just watched as the attendant looked at his boarding pass and simply turned him away. Obviously, Group 4 does not mean Group 1 or 2 or even 3. It means you have to get in line like the rest of us, pal. I wanted to take him aside and tell him, "Hey man, your American is showing.. Be nice." I just shook my head and even felt bad for the people behind him that didn't object when he just cut in line ahead of them. Soon, we all got on the plane and we were off. Although I was ready to get back home, I was a little sad for my trip was coming to an end.

Nothing interesting to tell about the remainder of the trip home. No leaving my laptop on the train at the airport and all that. You can read about that from my earlier adventures.

I want to say that I really enjoyed my trip through China. The Chinese are a proud yet modest people. They love their country and will help you to love it as well. They will encourage you to see, try, experience everything along the way to help you get the most enjoyable experience from your visit. I was never told I could not do anything, really, except for entrance into certain security areas, but they were clearly marked. When I was in middle school, in the mid 1970's, a teacher of mine got the very rare opportunity to travel to China. It was a very different place under Chairman Mao. She told us of the beauty but extreme restriction in what she was allowed to photograph, see or even have knowledge of.

To visit China was all but a dream back then. I would have never in a million years guessed that I would be given such a chance. And now, looking back... I'm hungry for more.

Window of the World

2012-06-01T03:45:00.001+08:00

Day 17, Part 3

Shenzhen

I skipped day 16 because it was rainy and I didn't feel too well so I stayed in my room most of the day. I did find interest, in a "nothing to do" kind of way, in watching two men take turns hitting a very large piece of concrete with a sledgehammer, in the middle of an open lot. I only watched them for probably a couple of hours and I was impressed with their persistence. Because they were several stories below, they reminded me of a couple of ants, trying to move a large stone. One man would take a few whacks with the hammer and then the other would take over, perhaps trying another spot to find the stone's weakest point.

It was Friday and I was ready to go home. I still had a couple of days left in China but in my heart, mind and my ever increasing bronchitis filled lungs, I was ready to leave.

About mid morning, the three of us set up for downtown Shenzhen. The subway, after making two train changes, would stop right in front of where we were going... Window of the World.

Window of the World is a theme park like none I have ever seen. Covering 120 acres, the park houses over 130 reproductions of the greatest tourists spots from around the world. All in miniature. Even the subway entrance that flanked the main park entrance was in the shape of France's Musée du Louvre. A one third scale replica of the Effel Tower stretched into the sky behind the main entrance. At this point, I wasn't really sure what it was. I had seen cheesy parks before and not being a thrill seeker for the most colossal roller coasters, I had hoped this wasn't a "ride" park. The front entrance faced the street and formed a semi circle as it rose up to about 20 feet. in the middle of the semi circle was an amphitheater with seats and a large Disney style globe behind it. Behind the globe stood the Effel Tower.

We bought our tickets and proceeded up the grand steps to the entrance. It cost 70 yuan or about $11 US per person and included pretty much all of the attractions. Once we were inside the park, one had to ask oneself, "Where do we begin?" Looking at the map and how the park was laid out, we chose to follow the main road that circled the park. There were attractions in the inner part of the circle and we'd get to those too. First place we stopped was the mono rail that would circle the park and only take about thirty minutes. I was also able to get some good photos of the park's entrance from an elevated perspective. The mono rail wound it's way around the park and stopped at several locations. We took the full tour and ended up at the station we originated from. Don't want to miss anything really cool!

We walked a little further and I noticed that the park grounds were immaculate. Hedges were in perfect form and trimmed to different shapes and sizes. Around each scaled replica was a complimentary border hedge, trained and trimmed to no deter from the center piece. Large palms grew along main paths and enhanced the tropical feel and provided adequate shade. Secondary paths led the visitor to each individual exhibit.

After viewing and photographing a few temples and palaces from South Korea and Japan, what really caught my eye and attention was the Borobudur, a 9th century Hindu monument in Central Java, Indonesia. The detail was amazing. The original has 504 Buddha statues and, I did not count them here, each Buddha statue in the replica was about 3 inches tall and finely detailed. Another thing I found astonishing about all of the reproductions in the park was the artist's ability to make them look aged. I focused in on this piece to show the detail. Manicured Bonsai trees accented the base.

Right next to the Borobudur, was the Ankor Wat Temple from Cambodia. It is the largest Hindi temple complex in the world. I was impressive and quite laid out in the area. The temple was also miniaturized in it's landscaping. Very beautiful. We walked back to the road and decided to enter the Japanese area and the reproductions they had created there.

The Japanese section was quaintly reproduced to resemble a Japanese garden, complete with a replica of Mount Fujiyama. A Koi pond with accompanying brook, snaked its way through the exhibit. A family watched the Koi and purchased fish food from the onsite vendor to feed the fish of orange, white and red. A little girl of about five years took her small baggie of fish food and emptied the entire contents into the water all at once. Suddenly, the water erupted with a feeding frenzy as the Koi literally leaped over one another to consume the food as quickly as possible. The pond had the appearance of a pot of boiling water, scaring the little girl who quickly took shelter in her mother's arms. There were people posing and taking advantage of the beautiful bridge, painted in bright red. Nearby, young women could dress in traditional Japanese attire and have their photograph taken for a memento of the day.

Once we exited the Japanese exhibit, we walked shorted down the main road, shaded by grand Bantam trees. Their roots gnarled and knotted together. Beyond the screen of photinia bushes, on the right, was a beautiful reproduction of India's Taj Mahal. It was was one of the larger reproductions with neatly trimmed hedges, fountains and ancillary buildings. Some school aged girls played in the fountain as the path crossed it. People stood in front of the replica and took photos of each other. I took note of some of the beautiful plants that landscaped the park. Bird of Paradise, 25 feet tall. Majestic palms bordering the road.

Past the Taj Mahal, was a small food court and souvenir area. Shops built in ancient Chinese architecture were positioned across from a small stage, used for traditional Thailand dancers. We stopped for a break near one of the public restrooms in the park. As I waited outside, several of the young, pretty shop clerks called to me in English for me to come and look at their offerings for purchase. I waved my hand to indicate "no thank you" and smiled. I began to amuse myself as I found that if I pointed my camera toward them, they would flee inside their shop and wait for me to put the camera down. It reminded me of how sea coral will slowly emerge from it's protective shelter only to quickly withdraw at the slightest hint of exposure or threat. I did this a couple of times to have some fun.

Around another corner and we were cast into Piazza San Marco or St. Mark's Square in Venice, Italy. The whole "Piazza" was reproduced right down to the weathering on the stone. Highly detailed, the architecture was magnificent. I had never been to the square in real life before, but having spent some time in Europe I would bet it was almost exact in it's reproduction. Based on my photos, the square almost looks as if it had been deserted many years ago. The lack of the human element is apparent in my photographs. As with all the reproductions, the absence of people is what answers the question, "What's missing from this picture?"

A beautiful reproduction of Die Kolner Dom or The Cologne Cathedral, complete with miniature parishioners showed the intricate detail and although a wonderful creation in itself, does not do the true Dom any justice. I wondered how many hours some of these replicas actually took to complete. It is nice for people who will never travel abroad to see something as majestic as this.

We passed an impressive Buckingham Palace, Big Ben and Parliament. Stone Henge and the Kremlin. The thing that really impressed me next was the Sun Temple, Modhera in India. It is a massive temple with erotic overtones and the reproduction here was a monument in itself. About the size of a small stadium. It's detail and beauty really captured my eye. Appropriate Hindu music played in the background and added to the effect. We stayed here for a few minutes for me to get some great shots of the temple.

More smaller reproductions of the Colosseum in Rome, St. Basil's Cathedral in Russia, Leaning Tower of Pisa. All beautifully reproduced. Once we passed these others, I was really beginning to crave some ice cream. We agreed to take a short break before continuing on to the Americas exhibit.

Several places around the park were being repaired or perhaps upgraded. Like most outdoor parks, the early spring is the time when these repairs are done, to be ready for the big crowds in the summer months. It was a little later in the afternoon so the park wasn't crowded at all. After we sat for a bit, we walked to the bottom of hill to where the "Americas" exhibit began.

An impressive and functioning reproduction of Niagara Falls along with a "log ride" to experience the water spray associated with the true falls was available. I opted out for fear of damaging my camera. Walking a little further revealed a replica of Mount Rushmore of South Dakota.

Upon clearing the pond used with the falls, various US governmental building were revealed. The Lincoln Memorial, US Capitol, Washington Monument Mall and the White House. All in miniature. In the middle if the adjacent pond was a reproduction of New York's Manhattan Island. Impressively build and complete with the World Trade Towers pre-9/11. I dated the entire park to be a least that old, maybe older. Finally, Lady Liberty herself, The Statue of Liberty marked the end of the Americas exhibit. After a couple of photos, we decided that we had our fill and wanted to call it a day.

As we made our way back to the entrance of the park, we talked how we liked the park and I expressed how impressed I was with the level of detail the reproductions had. Before we went back, I asked someone at the information booth if there was a "Xing Ba Ke Ka Fei" or Starbucks Coffee nearby. They looked at me for a second and then one of the other younger people in the booth, slapped the guy on the arm and said, "Ta shuo le Xing Ba Ke!!" The young man apologized and explained he was not accustomed to foreigners speaking Chinese. We all laughed and then they told us that there was one in the mall across the street. Sweet. I thanked them and we crossed the street to the Western Style shopping mall.

Luckily the Starbucks was just inside the entrance and we quickly got a table as I wanted to see if they had my souvenir localized cups for sale. They did and three different cups that didn't have. "Shenzhen", "Guangzhou" and "Hong Kong" I had the "China" cup from long before. "Damn", I thought, "I really don't have the room to carry these back home" and decided to pass on all of them. I purchases drinks for everyone and we sat and watched the mall people in their natural habitat.

Soon we were done and made our way back to the subway station, changing trains and eventually back to the apartment. My cough was getting a bit worse, so I decided to lie down once we arrived. I ended up sleeping through the night.

Guanlan Old Street and Laughter

2012-05-24T02:26:00.001+08:00

Day 15, Part 3

Shenzhen

The first full day in Shenzhen started fairly well, I was becoming accustomed to sleeping on wooden boxes and one thing I liked about being much further south, warmer weather. This had been the first real chance at being a bum and wearing shorts, a T-shirt and sandals. I know it's typical of middle aged men in the summer, but when I put them on, it's means one thing to me, leisure time. Relax, take it easy, enjoy life. It was warm enough in Shenzhen to do just that.

Shenzhen is located directly north of Hong Kong and holds a population of about 11 million people. During the Han Dynasty (3rd century), it became a hub for international trade in salt and held an importance to throughout history. The city's tremendous growth didn't begin until after it was declared the first Special Economic Zone (SEZ) by the Chinese government in 1979, due to it's proximity to Hong Kong. SEZs are places defined by the PRC and have less strict regulations for trade and economic allegiances with other countries, thus promoting growth and new markets.

It is considered a "Modern City" in that the amount of ancient cultural history, at least stuff you can go and see, is almost nothing. No Great Walls. No grand Temples of Confucius or Tao. Just a few items here and there. I guess you could say that the people of Shenzhen are the cultural part of the city. There is one place that Lily told me she would take me in the afternoon, that dates back to the Qing Dynasty, but first she needed to go to the market.

This was my first time in a real "non-tourist area" market and boy, did I look out of place. Actually, it was more of a regular style American supermarket, except everything was in Chinese. Because it was fairly close to their building, we were able to simply walk across an empty lot and we were there. She was going to prepare chicken soup for dinner at my request. I could taste it already. I bought a few items for myself, some sugar, which was sold by weight and didn't come in a prepackaged form. You scooped how much sugar you wanted into a clear plastic bag and then you gave it to the attendant. She then weighed it, sealed it and put a label with the price for checkout later. I also bought a jar of "ka fei ban lu" or Coffee Mate, both of which were for my morning coffee.

After lunch, I grabbed my camera and we went to board a bus to take us to Guanlan Laojie or Guanlan Old Street. It would take about 40 minutes to get to the area around the old market. I began to notice that Lily never smiled much. She was very quiet as was her husband. When she spoke it was usually to answer a question. I knew they were Christians and very active in their church. I just hoped, with my twisted sense of humor, that I would not offend either one of them.

We entered a different part of town that had an artsy feel to it. The bus stop next to the entrance to the park had businesses that reflected this theme. A couple of PRC soldiers stood on one corner in field attire. I wanted to get a photo, but I was afraid to ask. There were several times during my trip that I had to remind myself that I was in a communist country and even though times have relaxed certain formalities within China, it was still red. My rights that I enjoyed and most take for granted in the US, would not help me should I cross the line here. I remained humble and respectful despite my own country's stereotype in the world.

Once we entered Guanlan Laojie, the tranquility and serenity of the place washed over me almost immediately. Five minutes before, we were patiently riding an overcrowded bus and now it was like being in a different world. A maze of single and two story buildings, all of the same architecture, much older than the traditional Chinese structures, lined the streets. Mostly only enough room for one or two persons breadth between them. You knew this was built long before any type of modern traffic, even horses. To the north, fields of different types of vegetables and fruits were being tended to by local farmers, using traditional methods for farming. No machinery here. This was the second time since I had arrived in Shenzhen that I felt a time warp propel me into a distant time. This time to a more simpler and ancient China, where people lived in villages, grew their own food and made their own things instead of working in a factory and shopping at the Mega Mart.

I told Lily, in between shutter clicks, that this would be the perfect place to come and walk and think. Find your peace with yourself and your problems. She really seemed to be listening to me. I didn't ask or pry. She never offered up anything, just walked and listened the way one might listen to an elder uncle.

The park was once a great market and has become a place of preservation and even a school to ensure that old traditional ways of printing and pressing of painted art was carried on for generations. We occasionally stopped and watched one of the artist pursue his or her craft. Lily would chat with them and ask a question or two. Most of the artists were very well spoken in English, to my surprise.

We walked out toward the fields where you could pick your own strawberries and then buy them. It was more for people whom have never "harvested" their own food before to learn the experience. It looked like all the really good ones had been bought already, so we continued on. We came to a small creek that was lined with cattails. They were dense along the banks and you could hear bull frogs chirping randomly. I stopped and looked in the reeds to see if I could find one. Lily had never heard of them chirping before. She asked why they make such a funny noise. A small smile appeared on her face as I slipped and almost went down into the creek. "Aiyo!" I said as I regained my composure and noticed she had her hand over her mouth, not trying laugh at my clumsiness. I made a joke about the "foolish meiguo ren" (American). Then I told her that the boy frogs are calling out to find a girlfriend. I think she didn't believe me and started to laugh out loud. I smiled, not knowing what the humor was. It's true! It's springtime and they want to get, you know, busy !

I took some photos of some yellow Canna lilies that were blooming and we walked back towards the park entrance. We crossed through the streets to a small courtyard where a family was enjoying some time together. The children were playing with a small fountain as the adults sat and talked. Everyone went silent when they saw me. I thought I would have some fun with the whole foreigner thing.

"Ni hao, Lao wai qu lai" (Hello, foreigner coming through), I said, nodding my head.

There were a couple of giggles and Lily, hiding her laugh with her hand was a bit embarrassed by my sudden announcement. When we passed the courtyard, she had to stop and laugh again. She mocked my Chinese and laughed again. I giggled a little, I did look pretty silly, but it's harmless fun.

As we stood and waited for the bus outside the park, I looked at the different buildings in the area. There were no 20 story apartment buildings. I only remember seeing one three story, most were just two. Fairly nice and well maintained. Each shop was something related to a craft. Furniture and art galleries lined the street. I almost expected to see a Thomas Kincade gallery or a Starbucks, at least. I thought it must cost a small fortune to live in one these apartments. I found out later it was actually cheaper than their current place as it's further away from shopping and most public transportation.

That evening Lily prepared one of the best chicken soups I have ever had. It was "zibu wuji tang" or black chicken soup. They taste just like common, everyday chicken, but the meat is as black as ink. It takes a little to get used to looking at but once you taste it and see that it's just as delicious, you dig right in. Some garlic river spinach and rice complimented the meal.

After dinner, while Lily was cleaning up, Stone and I were talking about this and that in Hong Kong and Shenzhen. He told me that they had thought they might not be able to have children, although they were going to see another doctor and the news had sent Lily into a depressed state. I just listened to him tell his story. He then told me that today I had made her laugh and she was so thankful to be able to laugh and enjoy what life they had together. She had prayed for something and almost regarded me as gift to help her troubled soul. I told him, I was just being myself. He told me he remembered my first time in Hong Kong when we had met. I made him laugh all the time because I knew nothing about Chinese culture and he had gotten in trouble later, for laughing at me. I told him I was happy to have been able to help and if she pays attention to me, she will probably enjoy more laughter at my expense. He shook my hand with a very friendly grip and I thanked him for allowing me to stay in his wonderful home. I felt a lump in my throat as I know he did. I was really touched and felt hadn't done anything really.

As I lay on my box later, I replayed the day in my head and thought how I may have brightened up a soul with a simple laugh and I smiled.

Next time, Window of the World and my first KFC in China.

Shenzhen and Friends

2012-05-22T00:53:00.001+08:00

Day 14, Part 2

Liuzhou to Shenzhen

My train was to leave around 11:30 at night and arrive in Guangzhou about noon the following day. I waited for the train in the station along with quite a few others, which surprised me for that time of night. I guess overnight trains are more popular because people can sleep, or at least try to sleep.

When I got on the train, I didn't have the semi-private room like the one I had from Beijing. My only choice was a "hard sleeper", which is a compartment with three tiers of berths and no door. I had the middle tier berth and felt a little leery about placing my bags under the lower berth without knowing any of the other travelers. I tried to be quiet, as everyone at least appeared to be sleeping, as I stowed my bags, removed my shoes and climbed into my berth.

It was fairly comfortable as I laid back. Soon the train left the station and we were on our way to Guangzhou. This was not an non-stop express. The train would make seven additional stops before arriving in Guangzhou, one stop every hour or two. I had taken my motion sickness medication and was feeling a bit drowsy. With the sound of the train on the tracks and the gentle swaying motion of the passenger cars, I shortly dozed off.

I woke up at one of the stops by a young girl climbing into the upper berth on my side. She accidentally stepped on my shoulder with her stocking covered foot, when she slipped off the folding step against the wall. She started to fall back and I grabbed her arm, stopping her decent. Because the tiers are close together, the space in the compartment is fairly narrow. I could only imagine the injuries she would have sustained if I had missed. She was very thankful and apologetic for stepping on me. "Dou ke yi" or "It's fine" is what I told her as she regained her composure and then hoisted herself up into the top berth. Since the incident had woken me so quickly, the adrenaline killed any chances of getting back to sleep right away. It was about 3:40 AM and I still had about nine hours left. Eventually, I did get back to sleep.

When I woke again it was daylight although everyone in the compartment was still asleep. After a little while, the people below woke up and put their "beds" away and I was invited to sit on the berth. The two top tier berths remained asleep for most of the morning. I got to know the couple on the lower berths. They were a younger couple probably in their mid to late twenties. They spoke a little English and were happy to practice with me. I found out that they were going back to Guangzhou where they lived. They had visited family and had to return early because of the husband's job. I also felt they were probably anxious to get back to their daily routines back home. I walked with them when we arrived in Guangzhou and wished them well when they left the station and I walked to the automated ticket machine to purchase my ticket to Shenzhen.

I had contacted my friend Stone and told him when I had planned on arriving in Shenzhen.
I didn't have his number and hoped he hadn't forgotten me. I hadn't had any free internet access to send him an email, just the one I sent before I got on the plane in San Francisco two weeks before. As I boarded the train in Guangzhou, I wondered if someone would be there or had I need to find something on my own.

The train ride was a short trip between the cities. Guangzhou is a very large city in southern China that is also a big hub for a lot of different types of transportation. The trains between Guangzhou and Shenzhen were numerous, about 150 per day, so finding a seat on one wasn't a problem.

The landscape was really nothing to mention except that of endless factories and urban buildup. The train arrived at the main Shenzhen Railway station and the crowds were much larger. I was a little more concerned about safety because the region is much closer to Hong Kong and the number of foreigners would be higher, thus providing thieves with more targets.

I looked around and didn't see anything familiar or a sign indicating they were there to meet me. When you just stand around a train station's exit, you are bombarded with people trying to take you somewhere, carry your bags or show you where the sights are the best. Finally, I walked outside the exit and upstairs to the train station's main drop off point for buses and traffic. One man with streaks of red in his hair, came and stood next to me, leaning on the planter outside.

He was dressed in a ill-fitting suit and appeared to be about 25. He had no luggage, just a small briefcase. When he walked up to me, my warming lights went off in my head to be prepared for anything.
"Are you just arriving in Shenzhen?" he asked in almost flawless English.
"Yes." I said, looking to see if I could see someone looking for me and giving him the air that I wasn't interested in anything he was wanting to push on me.
"Which hotel are you staying in?", he asked further. "Which hotel? Did he want to come rob me while I was out later? Did he want to take me to one of the tea joints that I always read about ripping the lao wai out of thousands of yuan?" I thought.

"I'm waiting for some friends to meet me, thanks" I replied.

"Oh, well enjoy your stay." he said with a slight look of disappointment and he walked away. I nodded my head and smiled slightly. I watched him and my warnings were correct, he didn't go anywhere, he just wandered around the area, looking and picking out a potential taker to his game. I was approached by another asking if I wanted a ride to Hong Kong and again, in almost native English. These guys were good and they had done their homework, I'll give them that.

After about an hour, I thought I had been forgotten and decided I would go back inside and find an information booth to get some local hotel info and perhaps some free internet access. Hopefully, then I could send Stone an email and we could get together later or the next day. As I was walking toward the escalator, a very pretty, very young looking "girl" was coming up the escalator with a handwritten sign that read, "Maichel". As I looked at her, her eyes opened wide and she smiled really wide. "I am Lily" she said, "I am here to meet you." Her English was poor, but she spoke more than most. She had a printout of a photo of me with her along with another older girl, probably about 30, that I did not know.

Lily looked to be about 17 years old and I thought that they were sisters. They were there to meet me for Stone and take me back to their place on the north end of town. We all began walking and then boarded the subway, that looked brand new, to the main subway station. From there we would take the Long Hua line north all the way to the end of the line.

When we transferred subways, the older girl left and Lily took me the rest of the way. Then it hit me, Lily was Stone's wife! She couldn't be old enough, I thought Although she looked like a teenager, she was in fact, almost thirty. I would have never guessed it in a million years.

It took about two hours to reach the final stop. Once we exited the subway platform, I followed Lily and boarded a bus that would take us even farther. I had no idea where we were going or how long it would take to get there. As we traveled on the bus, the look of a more common and poorer side of China began to reveal itself. I felt like I was being taken back in time, to the time when Mao was in power and everything had a more utilitarian feel to it. The people stared at me a lot more. Not like the others that had stared because they were not familiar with a foreigner, this was a stare of, "What are you doing in this part, there's nothing here for you"

When we reached our stop, I followed Lily off the bus. It was about 5 o'clock in the afternoon and more and more pedestrians filled the streets. Workers changing shifts or leaving work for the day, children coming home from school. As we walked through the dirty side streets, piles of trash and discarded household items strewn here and there, Lily told me the people in this section all work for the factories nearby. She pointed out this one, was an electronics factory, that one made purses, etc.

She said that the factory provides cheap housing for the workers so they will live nearby and not require much pay for things like transportation and such. It was very run down with dilapidated buildings some even crumbling. Phone numbers were spray painted on every flat surface like graffiti. When I asked her about them, she said they were for people offering various services, like installing home internet. I thought, "Who the hell would have internet in a place like this, much less a computer to use the internet?" I followed her through the back streets and was a little concerned with my belongings. Had I made a big mistake by coming here? Lily looked very clean and well groomed, surely her and her husband don't live in any of these slums.

We entered a building that was fairly tall and stood out a bit. It was old but the security guard and access code that Lily had to use to gain entry to the elevators made me a little more at ease. We took the elevator and stopped on the fourth floor. Lily unlocked the heavy gate to her apartment and then the bolted inner door. Markings on the door across the hall indicated they were newlyweds and when I pointed to it, Lily giggled and said they haven't come out of their apartment in a week. She led me into a very clean and nicely decorated apartment. I have to admit, after walking through the neighborhood and what other conditions I have encountered thus far, I wasn't expecting much, but I was very pleasantly surprised. She and Stone had made a lovely little home, with a spare bedroom too! "My room" was large enough for a twin bed, a desk and a small chair. She said for me to rest and her husband would be home in a little while, smiled, then she closed the door behind me. The room had a window so I took off my shoes and sat on the very hard wooden box of a bed, and watched the people below for a little bit, then decided to try to lie back on the bed. I soon fell asleep.

Tomorrow I visit an older part of Shenzhen and dine on homemade chicken soup, Chinese style.