Porridge, Pangang, and Partyin'

This last week was pretty action packed. On Thursday, the Peace Corps training officer and my site manager came down for a visit. We went out for the standard banquet with my school officials and then we went on a tour of the local steel factory, Pan Gang Steel. The steel company is the world's second largest producer of vanadium (added to steel to strengthen it I believe) and something like the worlds 4th largest producer of steel. It's a pretty big deal. The only reason that the town I live in exists, is basically because of the steel company. Panzhihua was a very small village until Mao Zi Dong himself picked the site to be the location of Pan Gang, because of its relative isolation. Oh, but I didn't get to go on the tour because I was wearing flip-flops. I understood at first, thinking they didn't want my open toes to get crushed by some misplaced steel. But, Hong Mei had high heels on, my program manager had fancy flip-flops on, and the site manager was wearing sandals. If a vat of boiling iron toppled over and we had to run for it, I sure wouldn't have been the last one out. At least I was allowed to wear the helmet and walk around the outside of the building.

For reasons unknown, the power is out for at least two days every month. You wake up to no power, but everyone seems to know that it will return sometime in the evening. So, on our no power day, Lindsey and I cooked the most 'Chinese' diner that exists, porridge and jiaozi. The jiaozi were the ones we had previously made with the twins on our lunch date, and the porridge was from the local store. Porridge, the standard breakfast for a large majority of Chinese is something most Westerners either hate or tolerate. Porridge, or wet rice as the literal translation goes is simply rice that has sat in water for a while. You can add a little pumpkin or some sugar to try and cut the blandness out, but it's nearly impossible. I for one love rice, but I can't stand 稀饭 （xifan) as it's called. Lindsey actually enjoys it now and makes it whenever her stomach is off.

Lastly, we took a trip to Xichang this weekend. Xichang is a city about 200 km north of Panzhihua. We took the trip just to relax and leave our cave for a couple of days. Lindsey and I bought some dishes with Chinese characters on them, I bought some hand-painted cups, and we also bought the traditional outfits of the local minority. We went to Xichang partly because I have this strange fascination with the minority who live in the region. The people were a slave holding society until the 1960's, they still have their own language, and they don't inter-marry with the Han Chinese. For the most part, they live in isolated villages high in the mountains, but Xichang is now considered their unofficial capital, so many of the locals come in to town for the markets.

Eating in the dark.

The top portion of this sign is in the Yi script. All of the signs throughout the city are in both the Yi script and Chinese. The Yi language is more closely related to Tibetan than Chinese. This sign says "The Xichang City Police Station"


Here's Lindsey buying a baby carrier from the locals. There was probably a group of 50 people standing around to see what the foreigner was doing.


My continuing obsession with the Yi hand painted lacquer-ware. I bought four of these cups to add to my collection, which includes a big fruit bowl and a vase. The clothes in the back are some more of the traditional clothes.

Making Baozi and Jiaozi

Today, Lindsey, Gregory, and I went over to our favorite surrogate Chinese families house (the twins) to make jiaozi and baozi (dumplings and... bigger dumpling type things that are steamed). Basically, they are both simply pork or beef mixed with mushrooms, garlic, and anything else you want, in the middle of a some dough. We set a date to help make the traditional Chinese food and be critiqued on our poor jiaozi/baozi making skills. It was all of our first time making baozi, but Lindsey proudly surpassed Gregory and I's with her baozi wrapping skillz. While it might not seem like there is a true art to the job of wrapping a little dollop of raw pork mixed with spices into a piece of flour, it's pretty hard to get right. Well, at least to get past the brutal Chinese inspection team who point at the poorly constructed baozi and ask, "That ones yours...right"?

"Here's a free lesson for ya" The twins father showing off the moves.


A couple of Chinese-American's rocking their baozi making skills.


Me looking pretty while the work gets done. The girls English names are Daisy (left) and Betty (right), they just turned 17 this last weekend but still look roughly 12. They attend the best High School in the city and their English is amazing.


The twins mother getting ready to steam the baozi.

The woman of the hour. While we could stand around joking, making a few at a time, Auntie here was making all the wrappers and then started the real work after we sat down and started eating the 30 or so we made.


All that easy work paying off, baozi! The best way to eat baozi and jiaozi is by dipping them into some vinegar. You can find large selections of both foods pre-frozen in the grocery store, but the homemade ones are a lot better...but I'd still take lasagna, pizza, cheeseburgers, tacos, salad, cheese, or pasta over them any day.

Every Class Has It's Thorn

If you find yourself unfamiliar with the seminal work of the 1980's hair-band Poison, here is a quick refresher for you. Here are the lyrics to the bands masterwork, Every Rose Has It's Thorn:

We both lie silently still
In the dead of the night
Although we both lie close together
We feel miles apart inside

Was it something I said or something I did
Did my words not come out right
Though I tried not to hurt you
Though I tried
But I guess thats why they say

Chorus:
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn

I listen to our favorite song
Playing on the radio
Hear the dj say loves a game of easy come and easy go

But I wonder does he know
Has he ever felt like this
And I know that youd be here right now
If I could have let you know somehow

Chorus

I know I could have saved a love that night
If Id known what to say
Instead of makin' love
We both made our separate ways

But now I hear you found somebody new
And that I never meant that much to you
To hear that tears me up inside
And to see you cuts me like a knife

While this might have been one of the simplest, cheese infested rock ballads ever written, I love it now more than ever. I've now taught this song at least 20 times with guitar in tow. The fact that there are only a few new vocabulary words for my students who are at roughly a first grade reading level, is nice. Also, the fact that I can actually sing the song is cool. The thing I love most about this song is when I ask, "What is a rose"? "美化“，my students reply. Then I ask, "What is a thorn"? "刺“，a few students say. Then I ask slowly, "In this song...what is the rose"? Everyone gets very quiet and starts looking at the blackboard, which is full of lyrics. Then, without fail, one student will simply say, "美奴", or "beautiful girl". Slowly, a wave of understanding sweeps across the room and all of the boys in the class will start to laugh and nod in agreement. Somehow, Poison managed to write the perfect song. I've looked for other songs to teach my classes, but nothing has come close to the ease of singability, subtle allusions, and grit that Poison created with Every Rose.

I simply wanted to write a short ode to Poison and their song Every Rose Has It's Thorn. Who ever thought that a 1980's hair band ballad would work, and rock, so well in a classroom.

May Holiday Ramblings

Last week, starting on May 1st was the Chinese May 1st holiday, or Chinese Labor Day, as I just recently found out. The holiday was created in the 1980's as an antecedent to the week long holiday that occurs in October. "If we give the whole country a week off work in October to increase consumer spending, doing the same thing in May will probably cause the same economic results". And so it has. Most people travel around China or return home during this time. My students primarily stayed at school to play video games or they found part-time jobs to earn roughly $3 a day trying to convince people to purchase cell phones or computers.

Lindsey and I went to Chengdu at the beginning of the holiday because I had a conference to attend with the Peace Corps. Officially, the conference is called COS (close of service). All the volunteers still left in our group (44 out of 57) came into Chengdu and we watched a slide show of pictures we submitted, talked about adjusting to life back in The States, discussed jobs, and enjoyed each others company for the last time that we would be meeting as a group. All in all, it was fun to see everybody, but I certainly haven't formed any lasting bonds with the majority of the group. There were some great people, but the fact that we are stretched so far across China, have no money, and seldom meet up, meant that my vision didn't cloud up with tears of nostalgia during the slide show.

Out of our group, it seemed that most people are ready to go home and are not that sad about leaving. There will be about 6 people who are staying in China, 3 of them with the Peace Corps. Otherwise, people are either going to spend the next couple of months circumnavigating the globe discovering lost civilizations and then posting pictures of it on their blogs, going to school to get a Masters degree in International Relations with a concentration in Law or Human Rights, or finding a job. Lindsey and I will be finding work.

This May Holiday, Lindsey and I had planned to travel to Western Yunnan to a town called Zhongdian, which recently changed its name to Xiang Ge Li La (Shangri La). While it is certainly not the mythical Shangri La, it is located in the traditional geographic confines of Tibet and houses a large monastery. So, it's probably alright. Yet, in the end, Lindsey and I were fairly worn down after traveling into Chengdu and then taking the train straight back. Lindsey developed a cough, subsequently got sick and then I got some gross infection thing on my leg, which I originally believed was a pimple, Lindsey made me call the Doctor, which in turn led to my laying down with a heat pack on the thing, taking antibiotics, and then writing the few remaining Chinese characters we can actually remember on my stomach. So, the week wasn't a lot of fun, but we were able to rest and relax a bit. We spent a lot of the time looking for jobs and I even had a phone interview for a Computer Technician job in California. Right now, the future possibilities are Alaska, California, Maine, Alabama, Florida, and South Carolina, all of the places Lindsey has applied to. I've been looking for teaching jobs, but what I'd really like is a GIS (Geographic Information Systems) job, working with a small town. Then, in the fall I'll begin applying to schools to start a Masters degree in either Geography or International Relations the following year, and then who knows where we'll be.

Only 2 more months...

Oh, and he's my barber. He'll cut your hair unevenly for only 3 kuai (36 cents), but he's really friendly and all the old Chinese men sit around at his shop playing cards and chatting.

Speech Competition

This past weekend Lindsey and I were the judges for an English speech competition. The winners of the competition will go on to Chengdu, and then possibly Beijing to compete in the National competition on CCTV9 (the only English language station). The speech competition theme deals with the upcoming 2008 Olympics...as it seems everything in China does now.

There were three groups of kids, primary school, middle, and high school. All of the kids English levels were incredibly impressive compared to my students and simply for their ages. I just can't imagine assembling a room full of primary students in Syracuse who could converse at an Advanced level in Chinese. The competition went well but it was hard to eliminate some of the students. It was hard to see 'cute 8-year old buzz cut boy with glasses' and 'hyper active yellow shirt girl who I gave a fake phone number to' get knocked out of the running with a flick of our pens, but it had to be done. It was also a pain because there were three other judges, one of whom Lindsey and I assumed didn't even understand English. So, when she weighed in her choices, we had to give her the smack down to get the kids we picked declared winners. All in all it was pretty painless but it was sad to see some of the kids shed tears after they lost.

To partake in the competition all of these students had to attend classes on Saturday for three weekends, two of which Lindsey and I both taught (creating two very impartial judges). I went last week for the first time and stepped into the classroom of 25 Middle School age students with no concept of what they needed or what I should do. This has happened to any teacher that doesn't methodically write out all their lesson plans prior to class, so walking into class and winging it was nothing new for either Lindsey or I.

I taught the middle school students for the first half of our 2 hour class and Lindsey started with the primary school kids. The middle school kids were all really attentive and...still. They listened to what I was saying and asked good questions, even though the lesson I taught didn't help them at all and wasn't even relevant, in retrospect. Then, Lindsey and I switched at the break and I went to teach the primary school kids. The best word to describe a class of primary school kids forced to attend a full Saturday of English classes would be 'movement'. I wasn't bothered by the sheer energy that a room full of 8-10 year olds possessed, I just thought it was hysterical watching this 'sea of squirming'. Yet, after 20 minutes of trying to talk or teach them anything, I just divided the class into teams and started the greatest answer to filling 20 minutes of English lesson time, Hangman. The kids ended up loving it as much as my 20-year old students. It might not have taught them anything, but I made it to lunch and didn't have to try and hold any kids still in their seats.

Winner of the honorable 'Best Dressed' award.

3 More Months and Easter

I was trying to think of something to write, but bombed on ideas. So, I guess I'll just inform all you avid readers that I'll be arriving back in the U.S. on July 13th. Lindsey and I are counting down the days (99) until we leave. We really can't wait to get back to New England clam chowder, good beer, people that speak a language we always understand, family and friends, and of course, the pool at my family's new house. I think I'll be a little sad about leaving, but I sure won't be balling as the train pulls away from Panzhihua. I do love this place for all it's idiosyncrasies, but we're just looking forward to the future.

Just this past weekend Lindsey and I held a little Easter party for the other volunteers here in Panzhihua. I made a rocking pasta sauce from scratch, then we made pasta, garlic bread, cookies, and colored eggs. It was a good time, but nothing noteworthy happened.

In other news, I decided to start learning Italian. Why you may ask in confusion...let me tell you. It takes roughly seven years to achieve fluency in Chinese and truthfully I'm just bored of the Chinese language. While it looks great on the resume, I'm never going to speak Chinese fluently, nor do I want to or need to. The level I'm already at will be perfect in the States as a secret language with Lindsey, impressing Chinese restaurant workers, and making fun of my friends. Truthfully, what else do you need? So, I figured I'd fill up some spare time by working through an online Italian course. My Mother suggested Spanish because it would be more useful, but Italian actually interests me and it bring me closer to fulfilling my second grade goal of becoming Italian.

I suppose the cliche would be saying that, "I don't know where the time went!" Which in part, is true. I really can't believe that I'm almost done here, but it has been a long time. In many ways, I feel as if I've lived an entire life in China, a life that will be difficult to convey to my family and friends because of their limited participation in it and a lack of true comprehension that can only come from seeing, smelling, feeling, and knowing this place. When I return home, I'll be stepping back into shoes that may no longer fit. Yet, I'm excited as hell to run through the airport and see my family after two years and introduce them to the new member of the family.

Burmese Days

Well, it was a long trip but Lindsey and I are finally back in China...actually, we've been back for about two weeks now. Anyway, if you even knew that we were gone for the past five weeks, you probably would have known that we took a little winter trip to Myanmar (Burma). Overall, it was a good time, but it definitely had its ups and downs. For one, Lindsey was sick a great deal of the time with 'tropical sprue', a fun, antibiotic resistant, intestinal friend. Also, Lindsey and I came away from Burma with some realizations about what we want to get out of travel in the future. So, now I'll spin a yarn about some inane things concerning Burma...enjoy.

One of the first things I noticed upon our return to China, was the taxi cab. It was new, shiny, modern, and when it started down the road it was so fast and smooth I turned to look at Lindsey in wide-eyed wonder. No shaking, no hole in the floor, no driver apologizing because the cab broke down 100 meters from the airport terminal. This was nice. I was enjoying quality. The roads we were driving on were littered with street signs, and they had been paved recently! It was possible to drive on them at speeds of 30 mph and upwards without dodging a sea of potholes that stretched on for miles. Then there were the buildings, all of them new, and they emitted this strong aura...which led me to believe that logic was involved in their planning and construction. On the streets, every man was wearing a coat and trousers and the women were strutting around in their fashionable knee high boots. Nothing had changed in China, but it all looked very different.

Burmese cities are dirty, they are crowded, noisy, hot, at times scary, yet they are filled with exotic colors, scents, and people. On a 100 meter stretch of road you can easily stroll past a Methodist church, a 19th century British apartment building, a Buddhist monestery, a liquor store, a Hindu temple, a Muslim mosque, and then trip over a huge gap in the pavement. The old British colonial architecture sits on every corner, repainted over the years in bright greens, reds, blues, pinks, and yellows, to mask the decaying facades, yet at the same time, making them distinctly Burmese. The Burmese people, all modestly dressed, wear longyis, the traditional skirt-like garment tied at the waste. The women and children adorn their faces with a chalky mixture of sunblock and moisturizer called thanaka. On the corners, billboards loom with advertisements featuring 'bizarro world' products because of the U.S.' continuing trade embargo. The country looks as if it were built from the combined purchases of 50 years of international garage sales. I loved it.

I wanted to put up something small that talked about the country and what we saw. Don't worry, I'll add more later. It's just hard to sort through such a long trip and summarize it into a nice, tidy, 500 word essay. If you have any questions you want answered...about the pictures or anything else, just post them in the comments here.

If you didn't know, I uploaded a lot of pictures here: Burma Pictures

Another Semester and Another Vacation

Another semester has ended, my third in fact, and when I look back, it is quite amazing that I've been living in this country for so long already. Yet, It's actually hard to remember what America is like now. I think the best way to explain this is a line delivered by Morgan Freeman in the movie Shawshank Redemption, "He's institutionalized," Red said, referring to Brooks, the old librarian. What he meant is that at first you might not like the walls, you may even hate the place, but after a certain amount of time it becomes a part of you, and then something you never dreamed of happens; life on the outside doesn't make sense anymore. While I haven't spent 50 years in a penitentiary, the analogy works pretty well. It's been nearly 1 year and 7 months now if you haven't been counting and this semester moved a lot more quickly then either of my first two. I owe this to the fact that I am neither ignorant nor going insane, but have simply hit a stable pace and finally understand how things work here. For example, when the end of the semester rolls around and your students deliver their bi-annual 'criticisms' to your boss, that's just part of China. Everything simply makes sense now, in its own strange, Chinese way.

Well, in a couple of days Lindsey and I will take off for Myanmar (Burma) the largest SE-Asian country. If you don't know anything about this place, besides the fact that Mr. Peterman, Elaine's boss from Seinfeld traveled here to live in a cave and smoke opium, here is a short introduction on Burma and why were going there.

The country is led by an insane military junta that is renowned for its human rights violations and border skirmishes with various ethnic groups that are still fighting for autonomy. To this day, the Myanmar government does not have complete control of the country because whole states are held by ethnic armies. The military lost democratic elections that took place in 1988, but then enforced a country-wide crackdown on demonstrations when they did not honor the vote. The rightfully elected president was then arrested and remains under house arrest to this day. For many reasons, various groups see tourism as an act of complicit support of the military junta. Yet, many others believe that travel to Burma can open up the eyes of locals as well as the outside world to the conditions of Burmese life. Lindsey and I think that if people are reminded of the injustices that occur in Burma, and that they are reminded that the widely unpopular military government still exists, maybe change can be wrought. We will be bringing English language materials as well as donating money to Burmese schools, monasteries, and locals as much as possible. By researching the ways that the government receives tourist dollars, we will avoid helping the Burmese government as much as we can.

While social justice is one of our reasons for traveling to Burma, there are a few selfish ones as well. Firstly, Burma is simply a beautiful country with breathtaking scenery and unspoiled forests, rivers, and oceans. It is also purported to have some of the friendliest and most inquisitive people in Asia. Also, it has yet to be fully exploited by the waves of tourists that crush into places like Thailand and Vietnam. It is also highly undeveloped, the majority of cars, boats, and trains plying the country are decades old. The Burmese population is mostly Buddhist and there are still groups of Animists who worship spirits called Nats. One of the things that Lindsey and I cannot wait for is the food. Sitting between Thailand, India, and China, Burma has a mix of all three cuisines. The various curries and seafood that are available for under $1 a meal have me shaking in anticipation.

If any one is nervous, please don't be. The places that we will be traveling are quite safe. I don't think we'll be hitting the ethnic borders to join any volunteer mercenary armies on this trip, we'll save that for our Chechen tour of Russia on the way home. Yet, the possibility may arise where I eat one too many crab legs while basking myself on the white sand beaches of the Indian Ocean and get indigestion, but I'll try to be careful.

If you would like to look at any pictures or learn more about Burma, here is a link. I'll probably add a post or two while were traveling, but we will be leaving soon and counting the time spent traveling through Burma and China we'll be gone about 4 weeks. Oh! I forgot, if you have any questions at all about Burma that you want me to answer...just post them in the comments.

Myanmar Travel Information: Name says it all, also has lots of pictures.

The Train

Most Americans alive today never had the chance to partake in a long distance train ride across America. In fact, the only train ride I took before coming to China was a scenic train ride somewhere in the Adirondacks when I was about 6...a train ride for fun, to experience the romanticism of 'riding the rails'. While it is still possible to travel across The States by train, it's cheaper to fly, and a little quicker. Yet, the most common form of long distance travel in China is still the train.

Taking the train in China is an experience in itself. Yet, before even getting on the train, which is the easy part, you must purchase the tickets.

Buying a train ticket is probably the most stressful thing you can possibly do in this country...and maybe the world. When you go to buy tickets at a large train station there are usually about 15 or so windows open, all of them jammed with people in a dysfunctional line. Each line is about 20 people deep with students, workers, businessman, and yourself, the token foreigner. If you watch the front of the line, it can drive any rule abiding person crazy, because people come from all over the insanely crowded train station to buy tickets out of turn, shout questions, or to tell the ticket seller what they had for dinner. As the line slowly inches forward, you repeat the Chinese over and over in your head, "Jin tian dao Panzhihua, liang zhang wo pu" (Today to Panzhihua, two sleeper tickets), but you just know, that no matter how boldly you shout those words in your best Sichuan dialect, the ticket seller Nazi will glance at the silly foreigner and fail to acknowledge you, or simply say there are no tickets, at which point the next person in line will begin screaming in Chinese and pushing their money through the window. Yet, slowly, you continue creeping towards the front of the line. When you're finally a few people away from the window, you break into a sweat and forget how to say "Hello" in Chinese. At this point, you get a sense of the ticket seller Nazi that fate has thrown to you this time around, who with no fail, is a middle aged, unstably disgruntled woman. Finally, you reach the front of the line and proudly state your destination and the day you would like to leave, after pushing a line cutter to the side. If all goes well, she will begin plugging away at the computer immediately, if not, prepare to yell in Chinese. After a few nervous seconds, she will ask you for the type of ticket you want or simply print one out anyway (There are four types of tickets in China, the soft sleeper, hard sleeper, soft seat, and hard seat. The hard sleeper is good for any overnight trips and the hard seat is fine for any trips under 8 hours. I've only had a soft sleeper once and I've never had a soft seat, they're pointless for the extra money.). You then give her the appropriate money (too many big bills will anger her) and step to the side. Now, try to make your way out of the train station without having your money or bags stolen.

When it's time to actually go to the train station, you usually want to arrive there 20 minutes early if you have a sleeper ticket and up to 1 hour early if you have a seat or a standing ticket (this sucks). Even when people have a seat ticket, they will line up early and press at the gates waiting to board. If you have a seat and ten 100 lb. sacks of grain to put on the luggage racks above...you want to be there early to take up every one else's luggage space. The gates open 20 minutes before the train departs and everyone pushes and shoves to be the first to board. If you win, you get to take up tons of space and sit for 20 minutes donning a shit eating grin or pretending to sleep, in order to take up even more space (if there are open seats, standing ticket holders can take them).

When the train finally starts, the hard seat section is usually full to the brim with workers and farmers, minorities and students. The train cars are full of cigarette smoke and card playing, people sleeping or pretending to sleep. There are people reading magazines, staring blankly at their cell phones as they input text and change ring tones, listening to music, and eating instant noodles. There is free hot water, two bathrooms per car, two sinks, and the workers stroll the aisles selling magnetic jewelry and socks that will never burn, smell, or get stretched out. The train is a microcosm of the Chinese world, fully equipped with generosity, prostitution, snoring, alcohol, kindness, assholes, thieves, and boredom. It rolls through a predominately agrarian landscape that is often beautiful and always fascinating.

I love to see the landscape roll past the windows and watch it change from desert to sub-tropical forest to snow covered mountains to river valleys. I also love to eat instant noodles (which are many times better than those in the States), peanuts, and anything else my hands land on. Yet, one of the changes that is eminent as you cross the Chinese countryside, is the coming of a new age, one that hit America years ago: The Automobile Age. The Chinese equivalent to our interstate system is being built across the country and will be completed in the next 2 or 3 years. With the faster travel times that a highway offers, the train will start to see a decline in passengers and this model of public transportation will begin to fade away. While the train will be slower then buses plying the new highways, the ability to glide through the countryside on a train cannot be replicated. These moving cities that ebb and flow with passengers at each station, that offer food, drinks, and portable DVD players, with room for all classes of people, are truly something to experience at least once. Hopefully, the completion of the highways will not herald the death of the passenger train in China.

Exploiding Computer and Butt

While I was writing an e-mail the other day, I mocked Lindsey's propensity to hammer on the keys when typing. Two seconds later, the computer screen went blue and gave me a sweet message of system instability. The computer restarted a few seconds later and then gave me an even better message, "failure to locate operating system". So, to tell a long story short, the computer completely crapped out, I went into town to buy some Chinese versions of Windows, four of which didn't work, then borrowed a Dell system recovery CD from Nick and the computer started working again. Yet, everything on the hard-drive was gone. I lost a lot of stuff I have written and countless other things. Mostly lots of little stuff, but things that just irk you to have lost. So, that started my fun week.

Later that day, when I laid down to go to bed Sunday night, my stomach felt a little off and I could sense trouble was brewing. Let me pause here to warn of the openness that China and the Peace Corp has allowed me to talk about my bowel movements and fill you in on some China poop facts.

I thought it was rather comical a few months ago when I was on the phone with my parents and I told them I felt a little sick to my stomach and had diarrhea. "Oh my, are you OK?", they asked me, sounding rather concerned. I laughed a little and said, "Yeah, I'm fine, everyone here gets diarrhea at least once a week...at least once a week." This is due to the spiciness of the food, how everything is cooked in oil, how the water isn't safe to drink, and the fact that everything is grown using human feces and is not washed very well or with the feces contaminated water. So, we have to wash everything and boil all of our water (Lindsey has a home video with a scene where her friend drinks a glass of water straight from the sink...Chinese heads turn in confusion after seeing this) but, something slips through every once in awhile. Lastly, there is a parasite called Giardhea that over 70% of the Chinese have, but is not tested for in China. The parasite causes stomach aches, diarrhea, cramps, and lots of other fun things. Lindsey had it. Greg thinks he has it and I have a sneaking suspicion that I have it. Yeah! Peace Corp! Don't worry, the parasite is only fatal in rare cases and you can get rid of it by taken some pills, but it is a little stubborn.

So, I fall asleep on Sunday night thinking things are going to be alright, but man was I wrong. At about 1:30 in the morning I woke up and slowly made my way to the bathroom for the first time. I ended up pissing out my butt for a bit and everything felt a little better, but there were still some rumblings. I went back to bed and laid down for about ten minutes and then strolled back to the bathroom to pee (out my butt) some more. Then, something that hasn't happened to me in years (I think the last time was when I was about 6 or 7 and I ate Mac n' Cheese, laid in bed, and then threw noodles up all over the floor through my mouth and nose). Thankfully, the sink is right next to the toilet and I could get two things done at once. I ended up spending the whole night going back and forth to the bathroom, threw up a few times, and generally, felt like dying. We took my temperature sometime in the morning and I had a fever of about 101...celcius. After sipping some water and taking some aspirin type pills I started feeling a lot better around 8:00. If it wasn't for Dr. Aysta (Lindsey), I don't know what I would have done. I felt so bad because I kept her up all night and she had class at 7 the next day, which she still went to. I ended up spending Monday laying in bed getting sentimental watching Christmas specials, then I watched Annie Hall and China Town. I'm finally starting to feel better, but man. Conclusion: Being sick is crappy.

(Some of the pictures are from a little day long bike trip I took on Friday to a village about 4o km away. I made it there by lunch, bought some noodles, and started back. It was a great trip because it's just nice to enjoy some fresh air away from the city and actually see grass and trees.)

Tang Fang Fang

A young, 18 year old Chinese girl committed suicide last night. She was a Freshman English major and not yet one of my students, but I saw her occasionally at English Corner and whenever I passed by her classroom, yet I can’t pretend to have known her. Her name was Tang Fang Fang. She was fairly short, thin, had a round, blemish free, bright face, black hair, and was always wearing her highly visible black-rimmed Harry Potter glasses. Whenever I saw her, she never failed to sport a smile and always greeted me with an enthusiastic, “Hello Brian!” She jumped from the 8^th floor of the freshman dormitory and landed on the road in front of the school’s bakery at 10:30 last night. I wish I had known what that smile was hiding.

What was she thinking as she put her foot up on that window ledge? Was she scared, nervous, mad, relieved, or anxious? In her three-second fall to the ground, did she wish to undue what gravity could not prevent, feel clarity, or feel nothing at all?

In my own class this morning, I tried talking to my students about the death that happened only 12 hours earlier. Yet, it was as if nothing had happened at all. My students were laughing and joking around, as if it were just another day, which I suppose, it was. I asked them if they knew what happened, “Yes”, I also asked them if they knew the girl, “Yes”, they replied with apparent frustration. The attention of the classroom was all over the place, people laughing and talking in Chinese on one side of the room, students laying down their heads in boredom on the other, with only a few students putting on an air of concern. What did this all mean to them? Anything? Nervous laughter rained supreme throughout the morning. Throughout the class I tried to discuss life, suicide, depression, and their meanings and causes, but this brought us nowhere. One life had simply ended and the world kept turning, without missing a beat, in the same manner as it had before.

What message was she trying to send us? Or was she simply upset because she constantly quarreled with the other girls in her dorm room and didn’t get along with her class, as the rumor tells it? One minute to pause and reflect upon life and it’s meaning would do everyone a little good here, but I have yet to see that. “What’s the point?” I asked my class, “What’s the point of it all?” but everyone seemed to regard this question with the same indifference that they have greeted everything else in the class.

Hopefully, there is more then this pathetic blog post, her parents and relatives, and some friends that will stop to reflect what the meaning of her death was, if it was anything. But maybe that’s hoping for too much.

Glory Days

After the Halloween party I had with my students, there was a party at Nick's house (new PCV). I dressed up as a Chinese Muslim selling BBQ (they are everywhere), Lindsey was a chicken foot (a snack eaten by all the Chinese), Amanda was a cat, Nick had a ripped shirt strewn with red marker, and Gregory constructed a mask out of tinfoil. I'm just pretty sure that my Mom is happy I didn't dress up like a woman again.

The next weekend we had planned on traveling to Liijang, a town I have already been to twice, but it's a great little weekend getaway and the new volunteers in town had yet to go there. But, it just so happened that my school's sports meeting was on the same weekend.

All across China, every school, middle schools and high schools alike have a sports meeting that usually takes place in the fall, over a long weekend. The sports meeting is basically a school wide track meet in which anyone can participate if they sign up. This is what I love and hate about the sports meeting. I do enjoy watching track meets, and it's great to sit back and watch some of the events. That last 100 meters of the 400, or the precision of a hand off during the 4X100 are two of my favorites. Yet, the 11th heat of 5 girls all wearing jeans and awkwardly tripping over hurdles gets a little tiring. Why the hurdles girls? Did you know what they were? Oh, and then there's the dramatic dive through the finish into the open arms of a friend and subsequent passing out after jogging 200 meters. But, all of this does add to the allure of the sports meeting.

So, we had to postpone our Lijiang trip so I could defend my 100M dash title from the previous year, and watch kids in loafers and jeans trip over hurdles. I was running on the second day. I had signed up for the 100, 4X100, and 10X80. There was an open 400...but I didn't feel like embarrassing myself. When the day of the race came I was a little anxious. I wasn't as nervous as last year because I knew what to expect, but I still had some butterflies. I warmed up for awhile but never really felt as loose or ready as I wanted. When it was our turn, I made my way over to the 4th lane, got down when I heard the starter yell something in Chinese, and started moving when I heard the gun. I had a really bad start, it felt like I was 50. But, about half-way down the track I had caught two people and was going for the guy in first when we ran out of meters. Well, second's not so bad. After that race, there was the 4X100, which I was really pumped up for. I felt awesome, just like I was back in Manley Field house or at some big invitational. I was the anchor and the guy who had beaten me in the 100 was as well. Our team started off great and I watched every leg before me hold our lead. I received the baton in first with a 10 meter head start and never heard anyone. I wished the other teams were a little closer, but it felt good to really kick ass. The last event was the 10X80, a truly strange race. There are poles on both ends of the grandstand straight away and five team members at each side. When the race starts, people run back and forth to deliver the baton to the next person. The whole time you never know who's in first because there are so many damn people, but it's pretty hysterical to watch. Our team also won this race after holding the lead the whole time. It helps that my department at the school is somehow affiliated with the Physical Education department.

Overall, it was a great weekend. It sure made me miss my track days, but Lindsey and I trading race stories as we timed splits and running a few races, helped bring it all back. I can remember rolling my eyes when Dad used to talk about St. Agnes and how Charlie and him would go into the city every day after school to play street ball, or the way that his team was ranked nationally and how some of his buddies went on to play pro in Europe or coach at the college level. I just never thought I'd be bringing up my stories already. Glory Days! Baa Baa Baaaa Baa!

Justification...and Halloween!

Well, first off, my Mom asked me after reading the last post what all the complaining was about. What's my problem with China? I've complained a few times in posts, but I guess I keep a lot of the complaining here in China with Lindsey and the rest of the Peace Corp crew. Lindsey tends to tell people more of the problems she has faced here and the fact that her family has visited China lets them understand a lot more about this crazy place. Yet, after my Mom asked me why I was complaining...I had to sit back and ask myself the same thing..."What was my problem?" Is it just me? So, here is a little something that I wrote to try and explain China, my problems, and my disillusionment:

I didn'’t come to China to help people. My humanitarian beliefs are not what brought me to this place or into the Peace Corps. The reasons I joined the Peace Corps and then came to China were for the most part, selfish. The thing I wanted most was a departure, a new outlook, something beautiful, simple, and it seemed that that 'thing', that '‘something'’ is sold to us, as shown in the literature, or has somehow through the years morphed into the concept of: The Peace Corps Experience. I did want to live in a mudhut. I did want to eat bugs. I wanted to be cold in the winter and hot in the summer. More than anything, I wanted passion. I wanted it to be real.

China is a place that is passionless. It is a country whose college students favorite past-times are watching Qing Dynasty era soap operas, playing video games, and sleeping. Asking my students what they love, what they like to do, and knowing, before asking any of these questions what answers I will get, is painful. Do any of you like to read for fun? Do any of you like to paint? Do you like to write? Do any of you hate television? No.

The real question is this: What is it about this country that makes people feel like their souls are being stolen? Lindsey sees China as a place that is home to a population with no beliefs bigger then themselves, with no aspirations other then hedonism and monetary wealth. While the outside world may see China as a Buddhist country, anyone living here knows that this label is liberally applied with no meaning attached, just as fair-weather (Christmas-Easter) Catholics are not influenced by their label. While I feel this lack of a faith plays a role in defining China, I think the most basic problem is the sheer lack of beauty, or any appreciation of it.

If you spend the least amount of money as brashly as possible for construction projects, they look like it. If you allocate minimal funds for the maintenance of recently finished public works, they start to degrade. This is China'’s story, a story that is unfolding more and more rapidly as industrialization and modernization spread to every city, town, and hamlet across the country. The old is quickly tossed away in place of the new and everything is seen as better for it. China is moving forward quickly, but it's doing so without any reflection of the reasons for it's development. While China is a 'real' place, something I mentioned wanting during my experience in the Peace Corp, it is a place that takes no time to think and reflect upon itself and what it's doing, or the rest of the world. It takes no time to question, and therefore, has no time to see what its deficiences, needs, and loves are.

To counter all the negativity, I would just like to list some of the things that I love about China: I love the fact that I can buy fresh vegetables and fruit, merely a minutes walk from my house. I love how the elementary school children yell "hello" to me on their way to class, and then awkwardly think over what else they could possibly say. I love a lot of my students. I love the fact that I, and most everyone else in China never flinches when the power goes out, and stays out all day. I love walking and taking the bus everywhere. I love long train rides through a countryside that still seems timeless amid the roaring industrialization. I love how the eye's on the old women who picks through the garbage light up, as if it were Christmas morning when I give her a couple of bottles. I love peanut milk, soymilk, and these big round cookies that taste just like animal crackers for only $.20 a package. I love Chinese BBQ and these little oranges that you can peel in seconds. I love working 16 hours a week and using all that extra time to complain about it. There are things that I love here, a lot of them I guess, but it sure is easier to dwell on the bad. Oh, but I still hate the beer.

In closing, I threw a Halloween party for one of my classes on Halloween night. There was no power so the whole classroom was full of candles, which was awesome. A lot of the students dressed up, we bobbed for apples, I gave them candy corn, and I think that everyone had a pretty good time. I love Halloween back in the States and it actually felt like I was able to celebrate one of my favorite holidays here in China. I dressed up as Lindsey in a typical last second dash, and Lindsey donned my hat and went as me.

Crap.

Well crap. It looks like its been over a month since I've posted anything at all. While it might be clearly obvious to some...I think the three part Tibetan series is taking a little longer than expected. Its been caught up on the Editor's desk for quite some time, we're fiddling with different fonts and font sizes to see if we can get some more mileage out of the material we have, but it's an uphill battle. Anyway, a lot has happened to me since I returned from Tibet. I started my third semester (which is currently 7 weeks underway), celebrated my birthday (note the can of Guinness provided by the best GF in the world), went to Chengdu for a small Peace Corp training session, traveled to Chongqing during my one week National Day vacation, and got sick.

Firstly, Panzhihua has gained some new members. A PCV 11 relocated from his first site to take Lindsey's place at my school and we also have a newbie at Amanda's school named Nick. The first couple of weeks were a little rocky. It seemed that everyone had to recalibrate themselves to find their new role within a new group of people. Who would be the jaded China hater? The disillusioned sarcastic jokster? I still can't wait to find out. After the initial introductions, we have all become more comfortable with each other and things are going well. Yet, sadly, one guilty pleasure of mine has been hearing how Nick has been adjusting to China. I love to hear him express his excitement to learn the language and integrate into his community. He's also excited to teach, explore, meet Chinese people, and so on. My guilty pleasure is sated when I envision the reality here in China, swallowing a few of his lofty goals. I know, that's kind of terrible, but I can't help it. Recounting my first year, I can recall watching my initial intentions and goals morph and change into something else. Not that they all imploded in a vacuum of cynicycism...but that the way you look at this place, or any place for that matter, can change drastically within the span of a year and the methods you adapted to survive in that place change as well. I know volunteers who have done quite well here in China. There are those that have adapted and have grown to love or at least enjoy this place. I can still enjoy China for it's subtle and on frequent occasions, overt peculularities, but I hold no love for this place. And yes...I am counting down the months until I'm done. I guess, I just hope that Nick can adapt to this place and see it as the second home it has now become to Lindsey and I. More importantly, that he can fulfill his initial goals, or find ones that are just as lofty and fulfilling.

The 1st of October is China's National Day and directly following the day is a national week long holiday. I had a Peace Corp training in Chengdu the week before National Day, where we met up and discussed teaching things and stuff. Yet, the majority of us used the week as an excuse to blow a lot of money drinking beer and visit with people. PC put us up in a really fancy hotel outside of Chengdu, and let me tell you, the water pressure in those showers was worth the price. I played a lot of billiards, won some money at cards, and drank some more beer. All in all, two thumbs up. After that, I headed off to Chongqing to meet Lindsey for our week long vacation.

Chongqing had always been described to me as the literal City of Dis. I could only picture skies laden with coal dust, towering smokestacks, and grey buildings covering the landscape, and while this is pretty much what every Chinese city looks like, it actually was pretty nice. The city itself is home to around 30 million people (NY holds about 11 million) and is growing by leaps and bounds everyday. The city's claim to fame is that it was the capital of China while Japan was wreaking havoc on the country during the 30's and 40's. It's also a huge center for the production of every conceivable good known to man. The city is also a few hundred miles upstream from the infamous Three Gorges Dam. Overall, the city is much like every other Chinese city I have visited except for the fact that it is really big, really big. There is also a light rail system, which was really nice (I didn't know at the time that it had fallen off the track only a year ago killing a whole trains worth of people). Oh, and we could call...to get pizza...delivered. I don't know why I ever shunned this city. While in town, Lindsey and I stopped off at the local Wal-Mart (seriously) and grabbed ourselves an oven (we have made bread, muffins, oatmeal, bagels, and just bought cheese for pizza).

Hmm...well, none of that was very exciting... Alright, I'll try to have another post up before the month is out. 我的大便 是很漂亮。 Oh, I wanted to see if you can all see this Chinese or not. If you want to see what 'secret messege' I sent out, you can search for 'babel fish' and translate it from Simp. Chinese into English. Also, I'm still sick with a nagging cough, yay for pollution!

Tibet: First Day On The Road

I bought my plane ticket to Tibet for 1900 RMB ($250) at a small hostel in Chengdu that has a travel agency. Foreigners are still not able to buy tickets to Tibet themselves, they have to go through a travel agency to receive a 'tour permit', which is simply a front for the government to pocket about 300 RMB...but that's the way it is. I had originally wanted to take the new train to Tibet, which started running at the end of July, but the tickets are still very hard to come by. So, plane it was.

I took off on August 3rd at 8:00am, after paying 230 RMB in excess charges for my bike, running around the airport to put the bike through an x-ray machine, and then watching it loaded into the plane from my window seat. The flight was very smooth and only took about two hours. There wasn't much of note besides the fact that I was sitting with approximately 30 other foreigners and oh yeah... the view. Chengdu sits in one of the largest fertile basins in China, a large stretch of land shaped like an oval and surrounded on all sides by mountains and directly to the west of Chengdu, the Himalayas come screaming out of the ground. Flying over Eastern Tibet, the plane skirted over jagged snow capped peaks, which the clouds struggled to rise above. These mountains were ringed with mile long glaciers that ran through the valleys on every side. It seemed as if the plane was just a few feet above the tallest mountain peaks, but the river gorges cutting through the mountains were a dizzying three vertical miles further down. I snapped a dozen or so pictures, but none of them seemed to do the view justice, and then before I knew it, we were already starting to descend.

While everyone streamed out of the baggage claim area and started jostling for seats on the next bus or cab into Lhasa, I began putting my bike together. This time, I didn't almost break down into tears (as was not the case back in New Orleans on my first bike trip). I was so excited to get moving, but I took my time getting everything ready, pausing to take deep breaths of the crisp, cool air. Finally, I got on my bike, made my way to the exit of the small Lhasa airport, and took a left onto the only road.

The sky was a deep blue and the mountains on either side of the valley were splashed with sand dunes. Tibet is by all regards, a high altitude desert, and the stark contrast between the aridity and shimmering fertile valleys caught me off guard. Soon after leaving the airport, I began passing small farmhouses that were built from mud brick. Each house was built in a courtyard fashion, but the architecture was very different from anything I had seen in China. Each house had a stick on all four corners of the outer wall that was covered in prayer flags. Then, flying high above on a stick located in the center of the roof, a Chinese flag was commonly seen. Which I later found out, is a requirement for certain houses and towns. There were also ornate paintings under the door way and window eves. But the thing that surprised me the most, were the people. As soon as I left the airport and started down the road, I was greeted with smiles and waves. The fact that something as simple as friendliness towards a stranger could catch me so off guard, should tell you a great deal about China. Throughout the day, the friendliness of the local people astounded me time and time again.

One of my first stops was a small Tibetan village and a monastery. This first monastery set the pace for the rest of my trip... which found me not spending any money on entrance fees into the larger monasteries, which can sometimes cost 50 kuai or more (which was typically my budget for an entire day). So, I walked around the small Tibetan town and then went to explore the hillside ruins of a large monastery that was dynamited during the Cultural Revolution. Trudging up the hillside took a little while, but the view of the valley below and having a whole complex of thousand year old ruins to explore by myself, was just what I had been looking for. After spending about two hours in the ruins I watched thunderclouds slowly work their way into the valley a few miles away and decided it was time to eat and then find a place to sleep.

I quickly glanced around and then pulled off the road. The spot I found to camp was about 400 meters from the road in an orchard, a really beautiful place. I set up my tent, which must now be set up with the aid of a stick, and I sat outside to write. The fact that a person can waste a day getting up at 12:00, only to go shopping and watch a movie, as I have done today while writing this on the computer, or, a person can spend that same day flying into Tibet, biking 60 miles, exploring and experiencing new sites, food, and people, and then spending the night in the middle of the Tibetan countryside, boggles my mind. The day had been fantastic. On my first day I saw a place and a people that were truly different. While I watched the same orange and blue dump trucks fly past, saw much of the same cement Chinese architecture, and saw hundreds of signs in Chinese, the differences between this place and China stand out just as clearly as those signs welcoming you to this county or that in Chinese script. The sheer friendliness of the people, the language, the architecture, the dress, the food, the breath-taking surroundings, and some undercurrent that may simply be owed to the aura surrounding Tibet, manages to clearly set this place apart from China.

On the next day I would rise and head to Samye monastery, the first in Tibet. It required a boat ride, which was a bit of nerve-racking because of the fact that anyone (foreigners) in this valley is supposed to have a permit for traveling and the police supposedly use the Samye ferry as a standard spot for checking permits.

Tibet: Introduction

I'll start by saying that I've posted about 100 (98?) pictures on my Yahoo! Pictures page, which is located at: Brian's Photos (the link to the Tibet section is in the middle of the page with the picture of the mountains). I'll be posting some photos on this site as well, as far as they relate to my tales, but the majority of my photos are on the Yahoo! page, so feel free to place comments or...order your favorite ones by posting on this site. Also, this is the first part to a topic that I can hopefully restrict to about three installments, so as not to bore everyone and myself. Here we go...

The debate has raged on for years about whether or not Tibet should be a sovereign nation. Yet, while this debate rages, China continues bringing Tibet into the Chinese fold through Han emigration, modernization, and most recently, the development of the Tibet-Qinghai railway. Knowing this before I left for Tibet, I was more then a little apprehensive about what I would find, so much so that I considered other destinations at the last minute. My paramount concern being that I would simply be traveling through a Living Tibetan Museum as depicted, curated, rebuilt, and preserved by the hand of the Chinese. The majority of my fears revolved around two questions I feared greatly... Does 'Tibet' still exist? And more importantly, would I ever have the chance of seeing or experiencing it?

This was the question I set out to answer with a great deal of anxiety three weeks ago, and I hope I can fulfill it for you here in the next couple of entries.