Confertzel Cookbook: 渴舌发日你试渴

So thin...Eat! Eat!

The "Confertzel Cookbook" should serve as documentation of one Jew-in-China's attempts to make "soul food" using what is available at local Chinese wet markets and corner stores. I intend to keep the recipes fairly low budget and to use methods that most people in China (or with limited resources and kitchen facilities) could accommodate. If I offend anyone with how heinously I drift from traditional recipes, let me apologize preemptively. Specifically, I apologize to my Jewish grandmother.

*** 

Kasha varnishkas has always been one of my favorite side dishes in the Jewish cookbook. Generally speaking, the noodle-and-buckwheat-groat-based dish is savory in flavor and comforting in nature. Not to mention, the dish takes advantage of my [possibly genetic] love affair with cooked onions. All traditional versions of kasha varnishkas will implement a heavy dose of shmaltz (chicken fat)--and when it comes to Jewish comfort food: the more shmaltz, the better.

This is a good dish for the Confertzel Cookbook because of kasha varnishkas's simplicity. The preparation is simple, and it demands several compromises to accommodate resource availability in the Chinese market. The compromises open the door to be filled with Chinese flavors.

Winter Movement(s)

黄晶晶 (Huang Jingjing): "Elie, you are American. Yes?"
阿里 (Ali, me): "Yes."
黄晶晶: "Maybe next term you can teach an American Literature course."
阿里: "That would be fantastic!"

*2 weeks later*

黄晶晶: "Maybe it is better if one of our teachers teaches the American Literature course and you teach English Literature instead."
阿里: "Define 'better'..."

***

Confertzel: Identity in the Face of Tragedy

Confertzel

This entry could certainly use more research and reflection, but I feel a slight pressure to post it within a few days (or weeks) of Nanjing marking the anniversary of The Nanjing Massacre--also called The Rape of Nanking.

During The Nanjing Massacre (1937), Japanese troops laid waste to the city while committing atrocities like attempted genocide on innocent civilians and raping uncounted numbers of women. China claims that over 300,000 Nanjingers were murdered, while the United States tends to officially estimate the total somewhere between 100,000 and 200,000.

Understandably, the repercussions from these crimes can be felt today. Nanjing marks the memorial every December 13th by sounding a siren for one minute during the day, when much of the city pauses for reflective silence.

This all echoed of how Jewish people memorialize those who died in the Holocaust. Holocaust remembrance days are held throughout the year, and many congregations will dedicate a segment of Yom Kippur to honoring deceased love ones as well as the victims of the Holocaust. Other Jews light a  yahrzeit candle to "remember" and honor those who died in the Holocaust. In Israel, much of the country will acknowledge a two-minute-long siren on Holocaust Remembrance Day with a moment of silence.

What I find most interesting about the Chinese and Jewish memorials are how "national" identities shifted in response to tragedies. (I am referring to a "nation" as a body of people instead of a "nation" with borders.)

Finals and English Contest

This past week gave me the opportunity to conduct my first final exams from the teacher's perch. I must say that they were significantly more enjoyable for me than for the students, though the students appeared to be having fun between nervous giggles and voice quivers. Some students suffered from what I have come to call "Verbal Lawn-mowing": "I can--I can--I can--I can--I can..." But most were confident if not perspicacious. I also judged an English contest at Hu Jin Tao's high school. This was quite the formal affair that yielded significant financial reward for minimal work. Both experiences provided me with quite a few laughs at and with students. For better and worse, I saw just how much pressure students experience with regards to results-based activities. So, herein are the highlights to end my first semester as a university teacher--a highly enjoyable semester that I will summarize better in an a later post.

Confertzel Cookbook: 拉题卡

So thin...Eat! Eat!

The "Confertzel Cookbook" should serve as documentation of one Jew-in-China's attempts to make "soul food" using what is available at local Chinese wet markets and corner stores. I intend to keep the recipes fairly low budget and to use methods that most people in China (or with limited resources and kitchen facilities) could accommodate. If I offend anyone with how heinously I drift from traditional recipes, let me apologize preemptively. Specifically, I apologize to my Jewish grandmother.

*** 

"Same Dream China"

In the "Same Dream China" series of posts, I will reflect on recent dreams that I think provide some answer to the questions about "how I'm doing." The title of this series ("Same Dream China") is liberally borrowed from the wonderful Gold Panda track to which I often listen whilst walking and pondering along the streets and trails of China.

*


I find myself back in Donsol, Philippines. Specifically, I am in the middle of the dive that I enjoyed last winter break. It is a drift dive, which means that a heavy current pushes the divers in such a way that they need not swim--and should not resist the current for risk of exhaustion. This particular drift dive is remarkably strong since the Pacific tides are sweeping into a narrow strait between two islands. The current is so strong that divers are required to use hooks and leashes to tether to the ocean floor. I remember surfacing with rope burn on my wrists, where I was tethered to the leash.

Anyways, I am floating rapidly in the current. I do not have a tank, but I can breathe. Wildlife also is pushed helplessly in the current: leopard sharks, octopi, eels, and other schools of small fish. Anemones dance on the reefs. The visibility (water clarity) is astounding. I breathe calmly, but aware of the fact that this is not a natural setting--that I should experience stress and discomfort.


I do not feel panicked about lacking a tank, about lacking a leash, about being helpless to the push of the Pacific's current.

Confertzel: Interfaith Love and Marriage in Relation to Parents

In a recent conversation with two students I tutor, one student, John, bluntly asked: "Do you believe in--" He then paused to look-up a word on his phone's dictionary, "--God?"

This is a difficult topic to address regardless of a language barrier; to explain one's conceptions of "God" to someone who does not even know the word for "God" is a mental exercise in its own right.

John did not intend for the conversation to veer into philosophy, though. He quickly followed my simplistic answer with a story. John had recently proposed to his girlfriend: He showed me a silver band as validation and explained that modern Chinese custom is to use the engagement ring as an opportunity to exchange what Westerners might view as a "Promise Ring"--a non-diamond ring that signifies commitment but carries substantially less gravity. And given different economic standards, I am not surprised that the practice of giving a diamond ring (much less a three-months-salary-worth ring) is a rare occurence in China.

In any case, John's parents were not nearly as thrilled with his decision to propose to his girlfriend of fourteen months. According to John's mother, John "must" marry someone who believes in "God." John's girlfriend does not. (On a saddening side note, John's grandmother disapproves of John's girlfriend because she is not as pretty as John's cousin's wife. Therefore, John's grandmother and the rest of the family will "lose face" if he marries his girlfriend.)

"What can I do to change my mother's mind?"

Obviously, I advised honesty about his love. But I cautioned him that there are many details about the situation that make it so only he can truly find the "right" answer. I advised him to take into account the balance of tradition, legacy, familial love, independence, his own love, and his girlfriend's love. Then I asked him if he believed in "God": "No."

And yet I digress...

A snapshot of last week's sophomore class

*

Me: "I like a lot of different music."
Xiao Wang (a.k.a. Chris): "Me too. Who is your favorite rappers?"
Me: "--maybe A Tribe Called Quest, Jurassic 5, Outkast, M.I.A., the Roots, Jay-Z--"
Xiao Wang: "I like Jay-Z too."
Me: "Yeah? Who is your favorite?"
Xiao Wang: "Shaquille O'Neal."

An Introduction (new series)

I was recently clicking through Wikipedia articles (an act of procrastination related to a lack of direction in writing a blog post about how my students revealed their hierarchy of values during a class activity about societal pressure). In my distracted efforts to hone my now rusty pub-trivia-oriented mind, I continued through Wiki pages for at least an hour. I landed upon "Felix Mendelssohn" and was delighted to follow a link to an external page about Mendelssohn's decision to embrace Lutheranism over Judaism.

Despite being born a Jew, Mendelssohn was baptized in accordance with his parents wishes--his parents, however, were not baptized until Mendelssohn was a teenager. These conversions are now widely interpreted to have been indicative of a general shift away from shtetl life in 19th century Germany: In 1812, Germany guaranteed German Jews full civil equality if they converted from Judaism. Theoretically seeing an opportunity for socio-economic advancement, the Mendelssohns became some of the more famous converts from Judaism.

"Falletin Me Be Mice Elf"

Autumn is a difficult time for me to be away from the United States, from family, and from friends.

I often miss how autumn brings a transition of colors, flavors, and smells. Even though 南京 (Nanjing) experiences cooling temperatures more than 深圳 (Shenzhen), the leaves on most trees do not go through red, orange, or bright yellow phases. They immediately become brown with sickly yellow edges. They do, however, retain the gratifying crunch when stepped-on. Menus do not change, though, to favor pumpkins, apples, and spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, or clove. Pumpkins are popular year-round, and cider is completely absent in China. And I truly miss how the thick air of summer thins and reveals that lush smell of decomposition in the autumn. (Most of China has either the smell of pollution or public defecation.)

And the holidays (from October 14th through Jewish High Holidays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and into "holiday season") trigger an automatic craving for contact with friends and family. Regardless of my criticisms of celebrating historical imperialism or commercial materialism, I, like most Americans, feel a twinge of longing for those connections we hold dearest.

Checking-In

Tai qi in the campus woods

As much as I hoped my hiatus would inspire creative thought, I have found the break from blogging (and all writing) to be mostly unproductive. I enjoyed challenging myself to reorient my approach to reflection, expression, and observation; but I require the cathartic comfort of organizing my thoughts in writing.

I think part of my frustrations with my writing lay in my undeniably narcissistic tones--I aspire for diminished ego, though. And the remainder of my frustrations lay in the cliche duality of desiring praise and recognition while fending off the pressure of expectations--according to Blogger, I have followers all over the western hemisphere and in Kazakhstan.

Regardless, I have returned with a report (or review) of first quarter academia highlights.

Debut

I thought that those who care should know that I made my Chinese television debut this past Friday. For the Nanjing government's Mid-Autumn Moon Festival..."gala," I guess you could call it...The Nanjing government demanded my presence alongside the Brit who lives in my building--as well as alongside a Congolese student studying at Nanjing University. We sang "Purple Mountain," a song written by a Canadian and in honor of the Nanjing people's stand against the Japanese. The song was in English, and it had a bit of a Memphis feel to it.

Playing for the drummers in our shared dressing room

As my colleagues were instructed to lip synch, I was instructed to pretend to play guitar. All this Ashlee Simpson-ing is so that there are no mistakes. Harmony must be maintained--in regards to musical performance and quality of entertainment. The only entertainers who weren't faking during the evenings proceedings were the scantily clad Chinese dancers (who wore bunny ears and tails but zebra stockings) and the absurdly talented children playing in a traditional Chinese drumline--one kid totally wailed in a solo...would have kicked Nick Cannon's ass.

Anyways, I spent much of the day drinking free kumquat-and-lemon juice (weirdly good) and joking around on guitar with the children who played traditional Chinese drums--whenever, of course, they were allowed a break from their homework.

The show ended with cannons shooting golden glitter over all of us, with us smiling and waving to a packed auditorium and to the cameras telecasting us live to the city, with some handshaking with who I assume to be the significant governmental officials of the city, with our contacts gifting us a couple bottles of wine, and with the television offices rewarding us a three-hour salary for about four minutes of work.

This was easily one of the silliest things I have been a part of since coming to China, but I am in no way surprised. It feels like a rite of passage as a waiguoren (foreigner). Out of the evening, I was approached to help a teaching center as an English teacher and foreign model. Obviously, I am not sure really how this will pan out.

After scouring the Internet, I cannot find video (yet). I will keep searching, but I hope that these pictures will whet thine pallets for more on my rising stardom in China:

2nd pic--check that professional lip bite

And these women were one of my favorite acts--they came on about 15 minutes before us (same routine, though this footage is from some other absurd proceeding).

Confession

I need not tell you, my loyal and kind readers, that I have been posting with increasing infrequency. I have chalked-this-up to a busy schedule, distraction, and other excuses. While those may have been true (and may still be), I have realized in the past months that I have grown weary of my writing.

China Skill #8: Squatting like a champion

I am displeased with the writing I do both privately and publicly. For the most part, I am sick of how self-oriented all of my writing is. I would prefer to write about others, about culture, about travel, about food, about philosophical and moral quandaries, about a transnational livelihood, and about so many other topics. But I find that so many of my sentences include "me" or "my" if they don't start with "I."

Hell, that paragraph has those words nine times in just four sentences.

Furthermore, I am a little sick of my writing style. I feel like I once wrote with lighter tones, more developed thoughts, and a general indication of potential. Somehow, I feel I have failed to maintain that standard of writing for myself.

So, I am taking a break from my typical blog for a while. I'm also taking a break from my journal. This should present a strange conflict between searching for a familiar catharsis and searching for a more satisfying form of expression, between wanting to record my experiences and striving for a higher quality of thought. I am weighing a few options: making a mural on one of my far-too-white apartment walls, buying a microphone and a loop pedal to make beat-box beats with which I can mess around, pursuing calligraphy in a serious way, etc.

As a teaser, I am working on a different blog project that will undoubtedly be less Elie-oriented and more geared towards conversational pieces. I am not sure when it will be ready to go public, but I assure you that you (whoever you are) will know when it happens.

I do hope to continue updating and posting on "Traveling Onion" in a different manner, though. As I begin to write more developed short stories (anecdotal and fictional) in my journal, I will transcribe them here for your [dis]approval.

Cheeky knocker

This may all be a way of motivating myself to pursue additional forms of expression. And I may end-up continuing this blog as is. I am not really sure. I just feel as though I need a change.

Until then, my new job is wonderful thus far. The university sophomores and freshmen willingly enrolled in my class and are enthusiastic to have the opportunity to study with a native speaker. I will be leading a weekly film discussion group, a drama group, and a mini-workshop on journalism in English. It's too hot to be wearing bow ties, but I'm still wearing them. I found a great expat bar in Nanjing that is probably one of the top five bars to which I have ever been. And I may have two months of paid vacation for the Chinese New Year (12/23-02/20). I am currently planning a National Day week of Jiangsu travel: hosting friends in Nanjing, seeing the Venice of China in Suzhou, visiting West Lake (inspiration for a large portion of classic Chinese literature and painting) in Hangzhou, and revisiting one of my favorite cities in Shanghai.

Music, Books, Movies, T.V.: "Have Love Will Travel" by The Sonics, "Punching in a Dream" by The Naked and Famous, "Little Green Bag" by The George Baker Selection, "I Gotcha" by Joe Tex, " Watcha Clan, Kid Koala, "One Sunday Morning" by Wilco, "Brains and Eggs" by One Ring Zero, Thunder from the East by Kristof and WuDunn, Howl's Moving Castle by Jones, Entourage, True Blood, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Game of Thrones.

While I was out...

I suppose I should have expected that I would not have been able to live-up to my expectations to have posted at least one entry while on my whirlwind three-and-a-half week tour of the United States. Still, I am disappointed in myself for not writing just once. I barely even wrote in my personal journal. And I find that when I procrastinate [or avoid prioritizing] my written reflections, I tend to forget the pithy phrasings and descriptive language to which I sometimes dedicate hours of internal editing.

Alas! I have forgotten some of the whimsical and some of the refined observations on America and my American interactions that all seemed strangely familiar.

Flatirons, CO

Year One Done: Go Team 外教 （Waijiao）

Learn to live in China Lesson 984: Peace signs and smiles at Longji Rice Terraces

I will begin my nearly-48-hour-voyage to New York (to visit HermHana) on Wednesday at 8 a.m. Here is a rough map of my trip:

Nanjing flight to Shenzhen (11:30 a.m. - 1:30 p.m.)
Shenzhen bus to Hong Kong airport
Hong Kong flight to Seoul (12:45 a.m. - 5 a.m.)
Seoul flight to Chicago (11:30 a.m. - 10:30 a.m.)
Chicago flight to New York (2:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m.)

By the time I arrive on my sister's stoop, I will undoubtedly be burnt--it will be somewhere around 6:30 a.m. on my internal clock which may or may not get rewired somewhere over the North Pole.

I have had a roller coaster year that shifted my state of mind from excitement to confusion to heartbreak to disillusionment to isolation to engagement to intrigue to acceptance to complete enjoyment and back to excitement. That last excitement is for how last year ended as well as for this coming year (and for this). I have moved to Nanjing, and my first impressions are promising ones. I am hesitant to get ahead of myself (learning from my past), but I hope to continue the latter trend of this past year's states of mind(s).

Here's to reverse culture shock:

Movies, Music, Books, T.V.:Defiance, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, Rango, Bobby Bland, The Carrels, Thunder from the East by Nicholas Kristoff and Cheryll WuDunn, The Wire (finished and really liked--especially season 4), Freaks and Geeks, It's Always Sunny.

Sights and Sounds of Tai ji

After two weeks of study (thirty hours per week), I have learned the base eighteen movements of Chen-style tai ji. N.B. I am far from mastering these movements.

I am still amazed at how exhausting the subtle movements of shifting one's hips and rotating ones arms can be. The martial art form does not require any particular level of athleticism, but daily practice definitely guarantees some weight-loss (through sweat) and increased upper leg strength. Each movement requires only a slight knee-bend, but each movement requires firm rooting in the ground. Surprisingly, this rooting derives in comfortably sitting into one's hips and letting the hips begin each movement. At first, pronating and suppinating through hip movements seems counter-intuitive; eventually, one learns how to bend their elbows using their hips. At least, one supposedly learns this. As one of my fellow students pointed-out (in one of the more appropriate but obscure references I have ever heard), learning tai ji makes one feel like their doing the awkward jolts and jitters from Jamie Lee Curtis's strip tease in True Lies (see below for more details).

Waterbending (see below for details)

That's a video of my master （师傅, shifu) singing my favorite Chinese country song; the lyrics are something to the effect of: "Singing a song,/ I am on this side,/ the river is on that side..." It is a particularly popular song in Yangshuo, where there is an overdone light show involving hundreds of actors on boats and featuring the song as part of a love story between a village girl and a fisherman.

That video is of me doing the base eighteen movements with my master. I am sure you will see as many flaws in my form and postures as I do. Here is a clip of Jamie Lee's dance (the clip is only relevant to the point between 3:08 and 3:17, outside of that I cannot "speak" to the remainder of the clip): compare as you see fit. And after that, some vintage waterbending from one of my favorite TV shows ever.

The Price of Serenity

I have already provided evidence that Yangshuo is beautiful through my testimonies and my photography. And I have alluded to the quietness of the countryside, the slowed pace of practicing tai ji five-hours-a-day, and the pensive silence of staying in a village outside the city limits. Obviously, I am thoroughly enjoying my time in Guangxi's gem.

Serendipitously lotus blossom season

But, I am a cynical traveler (as referenced in my last post and my general tone throughout my posts). So here are a few opinions, observations, and reflections that could either be read as informed criticism of Yangshuo or as a whiny lack of appreciation.

"Real"...Generally speaking.

There are several excerpts from Lonely Planet's guide to China that reference "the real China." For instance, there is a quote in the section on Yangshuo that mentions how the mountain-town-cum-tourist-mecca is a far-stretch from "the real China." Being a cynical traveler, I heeded these words and mentally prepared for lots of schmaltzy tourist swag and fake touts; but being a cynical traveler, I also am skeptical of what Lonely Planet means by "the real China." (For more on cynicism, I recommend viewing 06/09/2011's episode of South Park: "Your Getting Old.")

One of my fellow tai ji students named Simon is seriously considering staying in China for a long period of time now that his holiday has been such a personal success. He recently passed his TEFL exam and is job hunting in Yangshuo. He also asked me whether I though that Yangshuo was an example of "the real China."

Real Chinese cow cooling off

Yin and Yang(shuo)

View from my second story porch swing

After a brief lay-over in Hong Kong (with the purpose of procuring a tourist visa for the summer), I took a sleeper bus to Yángshuò(阳朔). Known for it's karst mountains, 阳朔 is as beautiful and invigorating as stories make-it-out to be. The tropical spring weather of South China is on the brink of bursting into unbearable summer heat, but I still get afternoon rains that cool the air and make for peaceful sunsets over either of the two rivers that come through the county. While 阳朔 town has become quite the tourists' mecca over the past few years (and thus has plenty of bars, cafes, and restaurants to cater to Westerners), I am stationed in a valley about four kilometers from the town. I am studying tai ji at Long Tou Shan ("Dragon's Head Mountain") School in a small village. It is generally very quiet with minimal traffic, the occassional tourist cyclist, and a lot of frogs croaking at dusk.

Ramble On

Unlike other posts, this one will be generally unedited and mostly a stream of consciousness. I tend to prefer slightly more polish on my dispatches, but I really just want to get a few thoughts out there (maybe for future revision and rewriting) as I prepare to leave Shenzhen.

As irregular as my posts have been in the past few months, they may be even more sporadic in the coming weeks. I will be leaving Shenzhen on Tuesday. Hopefully, I can couchsurf for a few nights in Hong Kong while I wait for my tourist visa to process--otherwise, I will be finding a cheap room in the Chungking Mansion. After 3-4 days of personal processing and visa processing, I will catch a bus to Yangshuo to begin a 3-week stay with a tai chi school. By the end of June, I will be back in Shenzhen to retrieve a few belongings for a move to the north: Nanjing. July 1-6, I will be hanging-out in Nanjing, meeting some supervisors for my new teaching position, and moving-in for the fall. July 6th, I fly back to Hong Kong to catch my July 7th return-to-the-U.S. flight. 7/7-12: NYC. 7/13-15: Florida. 7/15-23: Denver, CO. 7/24-29: MI and Chicago. 7/30-8/4: Denver. 8/5: Back to Shanghai.

Eye on the ball

I am thinking a lot about forward motion.

Dear China: A series of open letters to all things China (pt. 1)

Dear Chinese citizens,

I am sorry if I did not seem happy when I said, "Hello!" I sincerely regret any tone of agitation or passive-aggressive curtness. I promise it is not personal. In fact, I swear that you could have run ahead twenty feet and asked one of the 100 people standing there if I was a warm person; each one of those 100 people said "hello" to me and received a pleasant response. Maybe if you time your day to be five-seconds earlier next time, you too will receive a smile with my "hello."

Looking for the elusive Chinese jam

I'll make you a deal: If you stop me and say "Hello, smile!" I promise to follow your command/request. Deal? Deal.

-Elie

P.S. I realize now that you may struggle to say "smile" because of that nagging final consonant--especially since it is an "L." Consider our deal to be more of a challenge. But at least it is a challenge for all parties: If you pronounce the word correctly, I'll continue to be both the dog and the pony.

*

Dear enjoyable Chinese music scene,

Where are you?

-Elie

*

Shorts

I am writing this post as I peel super glue off of my fingers. I bought the super glue to fix one of my cuff links. I bought the cuff links to match the bow ties that I have worn daily until the weather recently reached too uncomfortably high of a temperature and too dense of a barometric pressure--sweet sweet humidity. I even bought a set of cuff links to match the "Chinese-lucky-red" bow tie that I bought to match the lining of my custom made black suit which I wore to see Hilary Hahn and the English Chamber Orchestra at the Shenzhen Concert Hall.

***

 

A few weeks ago, several friends and I motorbiked our way up one of the local mountains. At the peak, we casually ambled through a Buddhist temple that was adorned with bright pink Japanese maples and mist machines enshrouding a network of small canals that provided shelter for hundreds of turtles. Beyond the peak's fifty-foot-tall golden Buddha, an expansive valley stretched into the hazy distance of factory smog originating beyond the far-side-of-the-valley's mountains. A small locomotive (in the fashion of a Wild West coal train) chugged around the peaks' sides and stopped at a water park on a lake, at a garden with millions of flowers categorized by color and not species, at a golf course that climbed the side of a mountain (seems like a difficult obstacle), and at a few stations in a village of alpine-looking buildings constituting a secret neighborhood called "Interlaken."

***

Test: 1-2-Sibalant

On occassion, the brightest students at my school select a French song to begin our semi-weekly (or bi-weekly) English broadcasts.

I do not so much "moderate" these broadcasts (otherwise called "English Time with Mr. Elie"--pronounced "Eh-ree") since a moderator would filter content in a way that I do not. Like any good producer, I am more of a curator guiding the general direction of the twenty-minute radio-show while allowing the students to choose music and movies.

Each week, I curate two twenty-minute long broadcasts over my school's P.A. system. There are about 36 students who are paired-off in couples of one older student and one younger one. I did not do the pairing, and I suppose "Chuckles" created the pairings with the intent of older students modeling behavior and diligence for the younger students; however, the younger students have not yet realized the lameness or the completely self-mocking nature of "English Time with Mr. Elie." This means that the younger students are, more so than the older students, conscientious about practicing their parts, about mastering new vocabulary, and about really infusing emotion into their lines. The older students tend to arrive barely on-time (if at all), and they often mispronounce words without a care for my soft-voiced corrections--soft-voiced so as not to be heard on the microphones.

Assortments

I find it funny...

I cannot summon the time or energy to blog. I can barely write a full page for an entry in my own journal, and I rarely take photos these days. Now that I am drawing cartoons in my Slingshot calendar, have I lost motivation to journal in other ways? Those are but snapshots of absurdities or funny moments. They miss so much--though my more consistent smile may preclude time or mentality for dispatches to the "Traveling Onion" or to my future self (via my journal).

Maybe my daily guitar playing is serving the cathartic purpose [of escape into creativity] that my writing has done for so long. My callouses have not re-formed, so my fingers sting with the burn of shame from abandoning the instrument so long ago and from anything but spartan practice. Madness?!? This is Shenzhen.

So, here are some highlights from my current events:

-A few weeks ago, I paid off the Chinese mob with about US$250 to get a friend out of trouble at a mob owned nightclub;

Kite helper

-One day later, I accompanied a potential tutoring gig to a private party at which I was embarrassingly under dressed; luckily, I am quite used to losing face. After forcing me to drink liquor in excess while introducing me to various local officials (professors, the head of the city's train station, the city's Minister of Culture, etc.), my prospective client brought me to his three-story, mahogany-interiored mansion that is guarded by three St. Bernards. He had me listen to five gorgeous Chinese women in white dresses play music, and then he insisted I eat about twenty fresh Australian cherries. Before the night was finished, I was under the impression that he was either in the mafia or a vampire (or both);
-Classes are going really well; I am impressed with how one man's approachability increases at least ten-fold when he begins sporting a bow tie. The kids are smiling more, which means they are more relaxed, which means they are learning more, and this means I smile more. Smiles go well with bow ties;
-We currently have a couchsurfer from Hong Kong. Her name is Xiao Fay. She shares this name with my favorite hot pot restaurant: Xiao Fay Yang ("little fat sheep");
-I have begun private tutoring to become literate in Chinese. My tutor's mom will soon begin administering cooking lessons to me and a few friends;
-I'm getting to the beach.

Books, Movies, Music, T.V.: Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce, The King's Speech, True Grit, "Glass Figurine" by Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire, Maximum Balloon, "Eleven" by Thao and Mira, Gold Panda, The King of Limbs by Radiohead, "Apollo Throwdown" by The Go! Team, Junip, Taj Mahal and Toumani Diabate, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Rome, Glee.

Pilipin

Everybody! Pose like a Chinese schoolgirl!

This post is a continuation of the last--my recent series of lazy rehashing of my journal.

01/27:

My thoughts (especially those I deem worth writing) have slowed. Is this a sign of relaxation? A shift in mindset due to current state and prospective jobs? Or an indication of having processed my anxieties to a point of acceptance?
*
I pass-out to power ballads blasting on a bus between Clark and Manila. When I wake, it's to a dingy city covered in filth, billboards, box buildings, and few green things. During our brief walk to get bi-bim-bop, our senses are assaulted by honking cars, neon, whispering drug dealers, and self-advertising prostitutes.
*

01/28:

Street vendors and hustlers walk the aisles of our bus as we slowly drift through Manila traffic with the coach door open.

Children wearing only underwear sit on our fast-craft pontoon and beg while the sun beats on their tanned skin.
*
Thin beaches. Coves with bangkas. Perfect sunsets. Drunken admissions and mosquito net riggings. 

Bo-oh-rneo: The Right Stuff

Mes amis! I have returned to technological society from another peaceful foray into off-the-grid living. Much has shifted in my mindset since I wrote my last post, and I have returned from five weeks of vacation (Chinese New Year: 新年快乐) with a relaxed and optimistic mindset.

As per my usual laziness and my routine risk of exploding with thought-peristalsis upon returning from vacations, I will be composing this post and the next (about the Philippines) mostly from excerpts from my [new, leather-bound] journal--thanks Mom and Papa. Prior to quoting myself (i.e. "tooting my own horn"), here is an adjusted itinerary from my original plan:

01/07-09: Kuala Lumpur
01/09-13: Kuching and Batang Lemanak (Sarawak, Borneo)
01/13-16: Bintulu and Similajau National Park (Sarawak, Borneo)
01/16-18: Niah National Park (Sarawak, Borneo)
01/18-20: Miri, Kota Kinabalu (Sarawak and Sabah, Borneo)
01/20- 23: Pulau Mabul (Sabah, Borneo)
01/23-26: Semporna, Kota Kinabalu (Sabah, Borneo)
01/26-27: Manila (Philippines)
01/27-01/31: Sabang, Roxas (Philippines)
01/31-02/05: Borocay (Philippines)
02/05-07: Roxas--Capiz (Philippines)
02/07-12: Masbate, Donsol, Legazpi, Manila (Philippines)

I read eight books and saw way too many low-grade movies during that time. Here are some more thoughts.

01/07:

With my head in my hand, I still don't feel the relief of vacation. Something inside me balks as though I would wake-up tomorrow to be back at the start of today--like a Groundhog Day loop of surreal zeal and distanced hesitation.
*
I'm starting this year, this trip, and this journal as an exhausted version of myself. I'm tired of planning this holiday...of the isolation and alienation I experience at school...of planning my "next step" with only one application submitted for next year...of social stress. The vibrations from vehicular motion lure me into slumber

Proper Refractions

H and City God Temple in Shanghai

Having my sister visit was delightful. Before she even left, I started missing her.

Prior to her visit, I was aware that her visit would be a measuring-stick by which I could assess how much I had learned in China and by which I could understand how much I had personally changed in the past five months. This being her first time in China, she was like a babe in the woods--I, the guiding hand with a torch that often flickered yet never totally extinguished.

I knew she would be such a measuring-stick because she is a constant in my life and because she knows the basic elements and incidents that have contributed to my identity: She could offer insight and observations based on her own knowledge (and her representation of) my essential common denominator that is my identity.

Though I was aware that her visit would allow for some personal analysis, I was not ready for how intense my self-reflection would be--"the difference between knowing and feeling" being one of our ongoing conversations. As I watched H face certain endemically China-challenges I have long since taken for granted, I slowly awoke to all the coping and self-protecting mental mechanisms I have established over the past months.