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."
***
A few days after the trip up the mountain, we motorbiked to an acropolis of tombs that climbed an entire mountain side and twisted its way down to the beach. We coincided our visit with Chinese "Tomb Cleaning Festival." We weaved between marble patios with names and pictures etched under marble awnings; we tried not to bother the Chinese families who were leaving whole roasted pigs (next to firecrackers and confetti) for their deceased ancestors. Upon descending the mountain cemetery, we discovered a beach with pristine waters (a change from our local beaches) and ample shells of intriguing natures.
***
I hosted a Passover potluck for about twelve friends. I asked each person to bring a dish indicative of their heritage: I permitted a baguette with brie, reddened eggplant, ants on a log, bruscheta, blackened chicken, and a few other dishes. I cooked a noodle kugel that tasted far better for breakfast the morning following the seder than it did during--perhaps I had too high of expectations considering I didn't have sour cream, cottage cheese, a convection oven or a dish in which to cook the kugel. Sweet sweet clay pot noodle kugel. There were two other Jews in attendance, and I shared my views on the metaphorical significance of pesach, exodus, freeing ourselves of oppression, and celebrating our shackle-free lives. I think most people enjoyed the "four cups" aspect of the ceremony. Libation to celebrate Liberation: The Jewish Way.
***
As my students are exposed more and more to English, they have a more creative impulse to name themselves--as opposed to accepting the names I assigned them. Sometimes, they ask me for new names (e.g. Chris became Skipper because he seemed to be the ring leader of his class, Pat became Ralph because he reminds me of Ralph Wiggum, etc.). I receive unparalleled joy when I get to use some of the names that I did not assign:
"Stop blowing bubbles, Wands."
"First place goes to, The Bod."
"Please put your pants on, Uncle Henry."
***
"I walk down a street lined with shops selling fans and toys, shoes, bike tires, and other miscellaneous items. It's almost 10 pm, but businesses are in their prime.
A boy at an outdoor billiards table takes a trick shot while wearing an open wushu uniform. Drying laundry on second story lines. Electrical wires sporadically punctuated with red lanterns.
All this and a particularly un-American stonework bring me to a moment of contented isolation: I am far from the familiar, yet I'm happier than I can remember being.
I meet Josh and Hilary at the food street that only comes to life after sunset. We call it 'Bag End.'
I don't write much anymore, and I'm strangely comfortable with it. I am living and experiencing so fully and constantly that I cannot bring myself to separate mentally or physically--even for a brief moment of reflection and written appreciation. Let my memories serve as the weight-free mementos of these months.
While writing and inhaling the smokey and mysterious blends of shao kao spices, I get strange askance looks and scrutinizing stares."
***
I sent a stop-motion video to my parents for my mom's birthday. The video was a series of pictures of me dancing. I overlayed Michael Jackson's "Thriller," and I ended the video with some pictures of my students. My parents had been eager to see photos of me in my bow ties, so I thought this was a "cute" son gift.
For better or worse, my dad took the liberty of forwarding the video to my extended family. Luckily, I am so used to "losing face" in China that the embarrassment of so many unintended audience members quickly wore-off. Unfortunately, I believe that my extended family was the last remaining vestige of people who thought I was cool; now, I am completely exposed for being fraudulently cool and irreversibly nerdy.
It was bound to happen.
***
With a month until my final pay check of my current contract, I am eager to plan my summer vacation. I am investigating the opportunity to train at the Northern Shaolin Temple for the month of June. Perhaps I will spend a week in Xi'an and/or Nanjing.
Speaking of which, I have received more details about my living arrangements for next year. This is both exciting and nerve-racking as I begin to face the reality of starting anew in China and relying heavily on my one-year's-worth of experience and language acquisition to survive and thrive.
***
Movies, Music, Books, T.V.: Ratatouille, Cars, The Incredibles, Somewhere, Washed Out, Hilary Hahn, "Good Girl/Carrots" by Panda Bear, Future/Sex/Love/Sounds by Justin Timberlake, Power in Numbers by Jurassic 5, "Kites" by Geographer, Os Mutantes, "Beeswax" by Nazcar Nation, Avey Tare, "Lapland" by Ratatat, Blowin the Blues Away by Horace Silver, Avatar: The Last Airbender (I finished this series and could not recommend it more if you're in a fanboy kind of mood), It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, The Might Boosh, 30 Rock, Glee.
***
***
A few days after the trip up the mountain, we motorbiked to an acropolis of tombs that climbed an entire mountain side and twisted its way down to the beach. We coincided our visit with Chinese "Tomb Cleaning Festival." We weaved between marble patios with names and pictures etched under marble awnings; we tried not to bother the Chinese families who were leaving whole roasted pigs (next to firecrackers and confetti) for their deceased ancestors. Upon descending the mountain cemetery, we discovered a beach with pristine waters (a change from our local beaches) and ample shells of intriguing natures.
 |
| Clean Tombs |
I hosted a Passover potluck for about twelve friends. I asked each person to bring a dish indicative of their heritage: I permitted a baguette with brie, reddened eggplant, ants on a log, bruscheta, blackened chicken, and a few other dishes. I cooked a noodle kugel that tasted far better for breakfast the morning following the seder than it did during--perhaps I had too high of expectations considering I didn't have sour cream, cottage cheese, a convection oven or a dish in which to cook the kugel. Sweet sweet clay pot noodle kugel. There were two other Jews in attendance, and I shared my views on the metaphorical significance of pesach, exodus, freeing ourselves of oppression, and celebrating our shackle-free lives. I think most people enjoyed the "four cups" aspect of the ceremony. Libation to celebrate Liberation: The Jewish Way.
***
As my students are exposed more and more to English, they have a more creative impulse to name themselves--as opposed to accepting the names I assigned them. Sometimes, they ask me for new names (e.g. Chris became Skipper because he seemed to be the ring leader of his class, Pat became Ralph because he reminds me of Ralph Wiggum, etc.). I receive unparalleled joy when I get to use some of the names that I did not assign:
"Stop blowing bubbles, Wands."
"First place goes to, The Bod."
"Please put your pants on, Uncle Henry."
 |
| Shenzhen: 4th largest port in the world |
"I walk down a street lined with shops selling fans and toys, shoes, bike tires, and other miscellaneous items. It's almost 10 pm, but businesses are in their prime.
A boy at an outdoor billiards table takes a trick shot while wearing an open wushu uniform. Drying laundry on second story lines. Electrical wires sporadically punctuated with red lanterns.
All this and a particularly un-American stonework bring me to a moment of contented isolation: I am far from the familiar, yet I'm happier than I can remember being.
I meet Josh and Hilary at the food street that only comes to life after sunset. We call it 'Bag End.'
I don't write much anymore, and I'm strangely comfortable with it. I am living and experiencing so fully and constantly that I cannot bring myself to separate mentally or physically--even for a brief moment of reflection and written appreciation. Let my memories serve as the weight-free mementos of these months.
While writing and inhaling the smokey and mysterious blends of shao kao spices, I get strange askance looks and scrutinizing stares."
 |
| Mahjong den |
I sent a stop-motion video to my parents for my mom's birthday. The video was a series of pictures of me dancing. I overlayed Michael Jackson's "Thriller," and I ended the video with some pictures of my students. My parents had been eager to see photos of me in my bow ties, so I thought this was a "cute" son gift.
For better or worse, my dad took the liberty of forwarding the video to my extended family. Luckily, I am so used to "losing face" in China that the embarrassment of so many unintended audience members quickly wore-off. Unfortunately, I believe that my extended family was the last remaining vestige of people who thought I was cool; now, I am completely exposed for being fraudulently cool and irreversibly nerdy.
It was bound to happen.
***
 |
| Hilary on our new, nearly private beach |
Speaking of which, I have received more details about my living arrangements for next year. This is both exciting and nerve-racking as I begin to face the reality of starting anew in China and relying heavily on my one-year's-worth of experience and language acquisition to survive and thrive.
***
Movies, Music, Books, T.V.: Ratatouille, Cars, The Incredibles, Somewhere, Washed Out, Hilary Hahn, "Good Girl/Carrots" by Panda Bear, Future/Sex/Love/Sounds by Justin Timberlake, Power in Numbers by Jurassic 5, "Kites" by Geographer, Os Mutantes, "Beeswax" by Nazcar Nation, Avey Tare, "Lapland" by Ratatat, Blowin the Blues Away by Horace Silver, Avatar: The Last Airbender (I finished this series and could not recommend it more if you're in a fanboy kind of mood), It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, The Might Boosh, 30 Rock, Glee.
for you, these are just bookmarks.
ReplyDeletefor us, it's the otherwise missing narrative.
love,
/p