After a two month hiatus from blogging, I am returning with recollections--recollections of the two month hiatus from blogging. I do not feel like my vacation was a "whirlwind" or that it "flew by." Actually, eight weeks of vacation feels exactly like eight weeks of vacation when entire weeks are defined by a specific activity, reunions, and locations. This first entry of journal "highlights" will be brief; these are excerpts from what I wrote between my last day of school (12/22) and my first day in Hawaii (01/06). More soon, friends and family!
***
12/27
The cold breeze of 上海 （Shanghai) winter comes through the open door of our hostel: Chinese people will endure frigid conditions for "fresh air"--which is ironically polluted to toxic levels.
After a few days in Shanghai, my wallet is breathing a sigh of relief. Everyday in this city costs me hundreds of kuai more than days in 南京 (Nanjing) or 泰州 (Taizhou). I'm looking forward to showing BK the charms of a discounted China-life.
"Charm" and "China" don't often share a sentence. Recently, I've been complaining about China and criticizing the double standards and hypocrisies here. Do I really want to live here another year? As I anticipate a rejuvinated passion for China (based on a similar mood-shift that occurred during last year's winter break) and a semester filled with travel and less tutoring, I presume I won't want to leave come June.
Complacency to vacation once again consumes me: I have nothing I have to do, so I choose to do nothing at a very slow pace.
I still question the significance of my time, life, experiences, and lessons in China--significance to the goals of my life.
The distance from those I love wears on me. People talk about losing touch with old friends, about struggling to stay in touch. I sense that inevitability given the infrequency of communication with those I miss most.
Thinking about these relationships, I start to wonder about how my perception of my friends functions as an extension of me and projections of my own psyche. Narcissism washes over me.
***
12/28
I'm feeling on edge for an unexplainable reason. I am particularly sensitive to the typical noise pollution of China. I think my irritation begins with the man behind me at the train ticket booth. He continues to sigh in frustration about a long line; then he smacks his lips in disbelief at how he has to wait in line for five minutes. Each time he opens his mouth, I can smell how much he smokes. Then he keeps hopping in-and-out of line to inspect the ticket vendor's progress; each time he does this, I can see him trying to cut in line.
Then a man sitting at least five-chairs-away in the departures hall eats his food so loudly, I literally shiver in disgust. I plug my ears, and I still hear his suctions and smacks--too much saliva and his mouth wide open. When I look at him (my face cringing uncontrollably), his mouth is bulging and rice is falling out with every chewing bite. I begin to feel nauseated.
Once on the train, other passengers talk loudly on their phones, play music without headphones, let their cells ring (at invasive pitches and with offensive tones) four or five times before answering, and suck chicken feet dry.
Suddenly, everything starts smelling unbathed; the man in front of me leans his seat back while the man behind me eats duck wings and kicks my chair.
This is a country with no personal boundaries and little common decency.
The train cruises at 300 km/h, and I hope I'm not so China-fatigued that I ruin BK's experience.
I start thinking about old relationships and speculating about whether my narcissism is inescapable.
After listening to the fine blend of snores and chicken-foot sucking, I want to punch someone.
The TV plays ten-minute-long summaries of movies. Stone and concrete villages fly-by.
***
12/30
北京 (Beijing) was a fairly significant bust barring one night of victory at a pub trivia:
-frigid temperatures in a poorly insulated 胡同 （hutong） guesthouse
-Franco, a well-spoken Hong Konger, and the sketchy lamb noodles that, according to Franco's report issued halfway through the meal, "Don't look like they used to" (accompanied by an awkward laugh). Ensuing shoddy sleep interrupted by bouts of illness in an outdoor bathroom mid-winter.
-frozen hands at The Forbidden City, many naps, pub trivia with a friend from Shenzhen (one of her friends is a Norse cartoonist), and a dinner consisting of: beef soup, 1/3 of a slice of pizza, one Imodium, three Tums, and two Peptos
-freezing
-my confusion over how people love Beijing (dirty, gruff attitude, suspicious food, smog, ugly design) and hate Shanghai's cosmopolitan feel
-frosted Great Wall, a bus so hot that we steam when we exit, black bears fighting, sketchy "Bear Trolley" carts us up The Wall, bad baked goods ("baked bads"?)
***
01/03
-dingy Hangzhou hostel with jazzy common area, a breakfast buffet that leads to BK using pancake batter to make scrambled eggs
-walking around West Lake, feeling as if I'm doing an injustice not spending more time here (but I'm cold and my stomach still echoes of Franco's transgression)
***
01/06
And so begins the great time confusion:
Flight 1: 2:30 pm (01/06) 2 hours to Seoul
Flight 2: 7:30 pm (01/06) 7.5 hours to Honolulu
Flight 3: 9:30 am (01/06) 30 minutes to Maui
I get today twice.
-Maglev train in Shanghai advertises itself as "warp speed"
-browsing the yak wool of Taikang Lanes
While reading Molokai my Theory of China Induced Emotional Vulnerability is reinforced by my welling eyes over characters' misfortunes. Essentially, China makes foreigners more susceptible to bouts of uncontrollable emotions ranging from extacy to rage to woeful aggitation.
Could I spend a career abroad? As I feel a re-gearing for the coming months in China and lean more towards another year, I sense the answer is not a definite "yes." I enjoy sharing China with visitors (situations where I am treated as an "insider"), and I can recognize that I am learning, absorbing and evolving in definite increments. But, I sense a greater dissatisfaction with what (read: "who") is missing from my life in China.
I am lucky to have this opportunity now and should balk at squandering it even if I believe I could always return. I enjoy my job, which comes with nearly unbelievable perks.
Based on my uncertainty over what I would want to do back in The States and my perception of peers' job searches or occupational stresses, I'm not sure returning to The States would be wise.
If I am concerned that staying in my job would be a form of treading water with my development and goals, I must consider if there is an immediate path in the U.S. that will keep me progressing. I am not certain there is such an immediate path, though I should begin considering the next step in my own education.
Books, Music, Movies, T.V.: Molokai by Alan Brennert, Tycho, "Rose Rouge" by St. Germain, Strange Mercy by St. Vincent, The Guard, Community.
 |
| Cold Wall |
***
12/27
The cold breeze of 上海 （Shanghai) winter comes through the open door of our hostel: Chinese people will endure frigid conditions for "fresh air"--which is ironically polluted to toxic levels.
After a few days in Shanghai, my wallet is breathing a sigh of relief. Everyday in this city costs me hundreds of kuai more than days in 南京 (Nanjing) or 泰州 (Taizhou). I'm looking forward to showing BK the charms of a discounted China-life.
"Charm" and "China" don't often share a sentence. Recently, I've been complaining about China and criticizing the double standards and hypocrisies here. Do I really want to live here another year? As I anticipate a rejuvinated passion for China (based on a similar mood-shift that occurred during last year's winter break) and a semester filled with travel and less tutoring, I presume I won't want to leave come June.
Complacency to vacation once again consumes me: I have nothing I have to do, so I choose to do nothing at a very slow pace.
I still question the significance of my time, life, experiences, and lessons in China--significance to the goals of my life.
The distance from those I love wears on me. People talk about losing touch with old friends, about struggling to stay in touch. I sense that inevitability given the infrequency of communication with those I miss most.
Thinking about these relationships, I start to wonder about how my perception of my friends functions as an extension of me and projections of my own psyche. Narcissism washes over me.
***
12/28
I'm feeling on edge for an unexplainable reason. I am particularly sensitive to the typical noise pollution of China. I think my irritation begins with the man behind me at the train ticket booth. He continues to sigh in frustration about a long line; then he smacks his lips in disbelief at how he has to wait in line for five minutes. Each time he opens his mouth, I can smell how much he smokes. Then he keeps hopping in-and-out of line to inspect the ticket vendor's progress; each time he does this, I can see him trying to cut in line.
Then a man sitting at least five-chairs-away in the departures hall eats his food so loudly, I literally shiver in disgust. I plug my ears, and I still hear his suctions and smacks--too much saliva and his mouth wide open. When I look at him (my face cringing uncontrollably), his mouth is bulging and rice is falling out with every chewing bite. I begin to feel nauseated.
Once on the train, other passengers talk loudly on their phones, play music without headphones, let their cells ring (at invasive pitches and with offensive tones) four or five times before answering, and suck chicken feet dry.
Suddenly, everything starts smelling unbathed; the man in front of me leans his seat back while the man behind me eats duck wings and kicks my chair.
This is a country with no personal boundaries and little common decency.
The train cruises at 300 km/h, and I hope I'm not so China-fatigued that I ruin BK's experience.
I start thinking about old relationships and speculating about whether my narcissism is inescapable.
After listening to the fine blend of snores and chicken-foot sucking, I want to punch someone.
The TV plays ten-minute-long summaries of movies. Stone and concrete villages fly-by.
***
 |
| BK on a "Bear Trolley"--as sketchy as it looks |
北京 (Beijing) was a fairly significant bust barring one night of victory at a pub trivia:
-frigid temperatures in a poorly insulated 胡同 （hutong） guesthouse
-Franco, a well-spoken Hong Konger, and the sketchy lamb noodles that, according to Franco's report issued halfway through the meal, "Don't look like they used to" (accompanied by an awkward laugh). Ensuing shoddy sleep interrupted by bouts of illness in an outdoor bathroom mid-winter.
-frozen hands at The Forbidden City, many naps, pub trivia with a friend from Shenzhen (one of her friends is a Norse cartoonist), and a dinner consisting of: beef soup, 1/3 of a slice of pizza, one Imodium, three Tums, and two Peptos
-freezing
-my confusion over how people love Beijing (dirty, gruff attitude, suspicious food, smog, ugly design) and hate Shanghai's cosmopolitan feel
-frosted Great Wall, a bus so hot that we steam when we exit, black bears fighting, sketchy "Bear Trolley" carts us up The Wall, bad baked goods ("baked bads"?)
***
01/03
-dingy Hangzhou hostel with jazzy common area, a breakfast buffet that leads to BK using pancake batter to make scrambled eggs
-walking around West Lake, feeling as if I'm doing an injustice not spending more time here (but I'm cold and my stomach still echoes of Franco's transgression)
 |
| Quiet moment at West Lake |
01/06
And so begins the great time confusion:
Flight 1: 2:30 pm (01/06) 2 hours to Seoul
Flight 2: 7:30 pm (01/06) 7.5 hours to Honolulu
Flight 3: 9:30 am (01/06) 30 minutes to Maui
I get today twice.
-Maglev train in Shanghai advertises itself as "warp speed"
-browsing the yak wool of Taikang Lanes
While reading Molokai my Theory of China Induced Emotional Vulnerability is reinforced by my welling eyes over characters' misfortunes. Essentially, China makes foreigners more susceptible to bouts of uncontrollable emotions ranging from extacy to rage to woeful aggitation.
Could I spend a career abroad? As I feel a re-gearing for the coming months in China and lean more towards another year, I sense the answer is not a definite "yes." I enjoy sharing China with visitors (situations where I am treated as an "insider"), and I can recognize that I am learning, absorbing and evolving in definite increments. But, I sense a greater dissatisfaction with what (read: "who") is missing from my life in China.
I am lucky to have this opportunity now and should balk at squandering it even if I believe I could always return. I enjoy my job, which comes with nearly unbelievable perks.
Based on my uncertainty over what I would want to do back in The States and my perception of peers' job searches or occupational stresses, I'm not sure returning to The States would be wise.
If I am concerned that staying in my job would be a form of treading water with my development and goals, I must consider if there is an immediate path in the U.S. that will keep me progressing. I am not certain there is such an immediate path, though I should begin considering the next step in my own education.
 |
| Peacock in the cold |
self-and situational awareness sufficient to sequester strategizing of serious sort
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