Sunday, February 12, 2012

It is All Over


Valentine’s Day is quite nearly upon us. The campus is repopulated and once again, migrant workers circulate around the housing development, completing their various chores. That emergency Listerine bottle I had to buy in Shenzhen is nearly empty. It is time to resume my life as a teacher. So today, as the sun streams through the windows of my study, once again I take to the keyboard.

Because I have this anal retentive need to keep this blog in some kind of chronology I have not written much about my doings after leaving Shenzhen. That doesn’t mean I haven’t done and done and done again my friends. Maybe I’ve done too much. I feel that way, in a way. Five destinations in 5 weeks… not bad! Especially compared to last year, when I had to force myself out of bed and out the door.

So now, I resume my tale. Let’s go to Nanjing!

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Five Weeks, Five Locales


I am now back from Hong Hu Bai Miao (my friend’s brother’s wedding) and Shi Shou (visiting with another friend and his family). But only for one day: Tomorrow early it is off to Beijing, the furthest north of my destinations and the biggest city to visit on this whirlwind of travel.

In these five weeks, the sum total of my winter break, I will have visited Shenzhen, Nanjing, the two villages mentioned above and the country’s capital. That is a lot of traveling, even for a vagabond. I’m kind of road weary… AGAIN! (See the Greyhound Adventures of summer 2011)

But I learned some things along the way. One of them being an understanding of bed jackets, crochet, cross stitch – or, all matter of needlework, and knitting. I always had an academic understanding of the need for such activities. They are genteel and nearly sedentary forms of work, and what has been come to be known as ‘woman’s work’. I now intellectually understand why women undertake that work.

While in those two villages the thought niggled at me again that homes in China are not heated (I’ll get more into that in another entry, once I settle down enough to write it). The women with whom I visited had hands that were swollen and purple, work roughened, and with open sores, even. These women do laundry in the river, cook with only the bare minimum of kitchen accoutrements and wash their dishes in cold water… just like the women in America, Europe and indeed all over the world have done since civilization put its stamp on humanity – or does that work the other way around? And they do it in frigid temperatures during the winter.

Once the so-called women’s work is done, they sit around, knees draped with a quilt and take out their knitting, crocheting, or needlework in a visual negation of ‘idle hands are the devil’s tools’. If there is a heat source in the home they will sit near it and if there isn’t they will retreat to their bed.

And that is where the bed jackets come in. While their legs are warmed (at least somewhat) by the quilts draped over them, their upper bodies remain exposed to the freezing cold. Women of means had fancy bed jackets, maybe trimmed in fur but poor women had serviceable garments, just enough to keep them warm.

And thus the women of China spend their days.

I’ve often said that living here is like living an anachronism. Even life in the city is like stepping back in time: the barter and honor systems still prevail in the smaller neighborhoods, vegetables are sold at the open air market, one buys meat from the butcher and rice from the dry goods store…

But life in the countryside goes even further back in time. Although all of the houses I visited had both indoor plumbing and electricity – and that only barely, any other luxury or modern advances in construction or comfort technology were nowhere evident. I don’t mean that there weren’t televisions or computers because each of the homes was equipped with those, although not to the extent that you would find in American homes, or even homes in the city. I mean things like cooking utensils and equipment. Martin’s mother had to get up before the entire household to stoke the fire in the kitchen so the rest of the household could have hot water, for example. At Celia’s house the kitchen cupboards were bare of any finery or even glassware. They use crockery – bowls, or plastic cups to drink out of.

Come to think of it, those were just bare of anything. The cabinet doors that were open revealed nothing inside. But I’m overstepping the purpose of this entry in revealing that. I’ll go into more detail about the whole ‘country’ experience when I get back from Beijing.

I enjoy living backwards in time. The honor system, a cash based society, a place where a man’s word is his bond. But, I think, the country living that I witnessed this past week is a little too far back in time for me, especially being a woman. I would not want to have to work that hard for daily life.

So now, after stepping back in time nearly 100 years let me go to the epicenter of modern China: Beijing. See you when I get back, in 3 days!

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Weary or Wicked?

There’s no rest for the weary… or is it for the wicked? Either way, I’m not resting!

My dear friends, I’m off again! On another journey, or three.

I am due to attend a traditional wedding in a small village called Huang Hu Bai Miao. This town is so small it is not even featured on the map! Immediately after that I’m headed to an equally tiny hamlet named Shi Tou to visit with another friend. Back to Wuhan for 3 days and then it is off to Beijing – definitely NOT a small village! I have to go there to renew my passport, otherwise my stay in China will be substantially shorter than I planned for it to be.

And this before I even finish writing about the trips I’ve just completed!

Don’t worry, I have notes. I just haven’t transcribed them yet. But I will, I promise. Just as soon as I get back!

If you look back on this time last year, the Valentine’s Day entry and all… that whole period during Winter Break. There was a certain dark undercurrent in those narratives that spoke of loneliness and desperation actually existent in my personal life at that time. This year’s Winter Break has been active, productive, joyful and anything but lonely and desperate! I am thankful for that.

And I am delighted to share these adventures with you. But, this is a case where I must first have the adventure, and then I can share it.

So off I go, adventuring. This vagabond is taking to the roads with a vengeance this Winter Break, leaving you with plenty to read about. As soon as I write about it, that is.

Happy Trails! May the winter wind be at your back and may your troubles be light… or, as long as I’m wishing, may your troubles be non-existent! Till we meet again!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Winding Down



Feeling like I've gotten all out of Shenzhen that I was meant to or
going to get, I reminded myself that I had a 25 hour train ride ahead
of me. I would need some food, or else hope the train concessions have
palatable food. Train food is very expensive. I don't like having to
spend money when I don't have to, even if my prevailing attitude is
'Why not? I'm on vacation!' so I headed to the Walmart close to my
hotel.

Herb flavored crackers, The Laughing Cow cheese, 3 bowls of Ramen
noodles and fruit from the vendor stand would hold me in good stead.
That, along with the two hard boiled eggs I intended to pilfer from
the hotel's breakfast bar would do me fine on the train. Well, I'm not
going to pilfer anything. I am going to pay for them as part of my
breakfast; I'm just going to not eat them for breakfast.

OK, now that I've made that clear, I'm headed back to the hotel.

Wait: back to the hotel? Yeah, I really don't feel like riding more
buses and seeing more shops blaring techno music, and restaurants with
their overpriced fare. I've gotten an adequate feel for this city and,
quite frankly I'm ready to move on. Besides, I'm itching to get my
fingers on a keyboard. I already have notes for 8 blog entries. Before
walking back to the hotel I had a nice lunch at a cafe where a young
dancing beauty charmed and captivated me. You'll see a picture of her
when I do the picture montage.

Walking a little more to settle my lunch, I saw nothing had changed
from shopping and eating. I headed home to type.

Now Back to China




On my last full day in Shenzhen I really didn't feel like going out.
Shopping and eating, eating and shopping... that is all there seems to
be to this city. I even asked the stylist who was doing my hair if
there were going to be any public New Year celebrations. She said
nothing public was planned for the city. Well, darn! Still, there is
one temporary walking street I have been meaning to investigate, may
as well go there. Not really up to it, but may as well, just to have
something to do.

While waiting for bus 306 I was compelled by my bladder to absent
myself from the bus station for just a few moments. When I came back
bus 97 was loading. Its destination advertised Huang Bei Ling Village,
one of the few tourist 'must see' destinations listed in Lonely
Planet. Because my plan was to venture to that walking street I passed
on the chance to board this bus, but then thought better of it, but
then decided to leave it up to fate: whichever bus materializes first
- another 97 or the one I originally intended to take, 306, would be
the day's destination. My money was on 306 as it travels fairly often.
In fact, in all my time in Shenzhen I hadn't seen bus 97, even though
I had been at that stop nearly every day.

Apparently I was meant to head to the village. 97 preceded 306 but
they both pulled up to the station at the same time.

There really wasn't very much to this village. It did indeed have a
village-y feel: lots of alleys off the main road, which in itself is a
misnomer, being a narrow, two-lane, winding road. Traffic on this
narrow road was further impeded by fruit vendor stalls extending into
the road and pedestrians ambling along because the sidewalk was
impassable. And, this road is only about 3km long. All too soon the
bus arrived at the end stop. All passengers debarked.

Was this really all there was to it? After the positive write up in
Lonely Planet I expected more. After all, that tour guide manual does
not glow about much with regard to Shenzhen; that this village got a
positive review led me to anticipate more than there perhaps actually
was.

Instead of immediately boarding the bus again, I decided to walk down
a few stops. Logic, reason and experience dictate that pretty much all
there is to see you can see from a slow moving bus window, but in this
case I was wrong. Scanning the roof lines I spied what appeared to be
the remnants of a temple, and two older buildings. I tried to gain
access to them, or at least to the larger temple like building, but
the gate was locked on one side and access was blocked on the other.
Through the fence I could see that it was newly decorated for the
upcoming festival. I asked the policeman guarding that access what
that building was. He told me that it was indeed formerly a temple. He
went on to assert that it was closed till tomorrow, the actual New
Year day. Too bad! I would be gone tomorrow. I guess I won't have the
chance to see inside it, but I did take some nice pictures of the
roofline and what I could see of it through the fence.

I wished him Happy New Year and moved on. In spite of the village
feeling I got at first, signs of modern intruded: a child with a
McDonald's bag, a whole plaza dedicated to Walmart and again:
shopping, shopping and more shopping. Sigh! I got back on the bus
headed back to the hotel. I never did make it to that temporary
walking steet. All it seemed to have was stuff for New Year anyway:
couplets, gifts, and decorations. I could to Walmart to see that!

A Part of Their World





On this, my last full day in Shenzhen I woke up to a feeling of
foreboding. Wonder why?

Because my room has no window and the overhead lights are bright
fluorescents I use the TV to wake up to - the light is gentler, and
comes from the wall, not overhead. The noise soon proved too much and
I turned it off again, after switching on the bathroom lights. It
seems a quiet day will be on order. After getting ready I went
downstairs for my breakfast and email check. Now I know what that
feeling of foreboding is all about.

On the 17th of January a retirement party was held for 3 members of my
former work family: 2 colleagues and my esteemed boss. One of my
contacts from that former life of mine had sent me a link to their
flickr account so I could see all the pictures.

It should come as no surprise that I am still in touch with them. You
don't spend nearly 8 years with someone or a group of someones, mostly
day in and day out, and not have them imprint themselves on you. And
now, with rumored plant closings and with that organization suffering
cutbacks and financial trouble, complete with jobs threatened and good
people in danger of losing their livelihood, they are on my mind quite
a bit. Looking at those pictures was rough on my heart, let me tell
you. They brought back all the good times we had: jokes shared and
conspiracies discussed, the times we broke bread together, the smiles,
the laughter and yes, even the bickerings and conflicting
personalities. All were called to mind. As usual, the good prevailed.
With these memories came the thought of: "you idiot! Look at what you
left behind!"

That thought was especially poignant because, here I am, alone in a
strange and not so fun city. I live alone when I am in my home -
Wuhan, and here they all are, gathered in the same room we always had
parties in, with the tables configured just the same way as when I was
there. And I recognized every single face, even those who had retired
while I still worked there, and those that transferred out shortly
after I left.

What would have happened had I not left?

Steve would not be in Maintenance, where he should have been all
along. He would still be the most valuable Operations supervisor on
the swing shift and his maintenance management talents would have gone
wasted. "I've never been so glad to see someone get out of here" Steve
confided to me, adding that he was sorry I left.

Kevin F. and Derrick W. would still be working the swing shift, both
to their detriment and both out of loyalty to me. "I'm hanging on till
you leave and then I'm transferring out." Their words, not mine. Kevin
now works at a plant much closer to his home, and Derrick works the
day shift. His personal life has substantially improved.

And, when out of loyalty to my boss I asked Clayton what he thought
about leaving Federal Service in general and this plant in particular
to take this teaching job in China he concluded his supportive speech
with: "If you're not going to be here I'm not going to hang around
much longer." Again: his words, not mine.

And I would still be ducking all manner of non-significant management
drivel and wishing I could feel fulfilled.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy I made my move and I'm enjoying my
life here. But sometimes I miss that other world where everyone smiled
when they saw me approach, where I wasn't such an oddity or a
curiosity. I have joy here, where the kids are happy I'm here to teach
them about English and American culture, where I feel like I'm making
a difference in people's lives and where the neighbors treat me like a
neighbor. Where people let me know they're thinking of me, judging by
the phone calls and text messages I get. Where, for a few Yuan I can
have a tasty meal or for a few more Yuan I can hit the road and see
something new.

Now, as I move sylphlike through this city I think of what I left
behind. Guys and Chamica, I miss you. I carry you in my heart. Ron,
George, Clayton: I wish you the best for your retirement plans and I
hope we stay in touch even after you are free of the five day a week
grind. I hope you find retirement as exciting and charged as you
anticipate it, and I hope and wish all of your plans come to pass.

Paul McS: I am sorry you did not get a Christmas card. I hope you do
not feel too left out.

I like the idea of us all playing the cards dealt us by the Fates. I'm
glad we had the chance to meet and work together, and I'm glad we are
friends. I'm sorry that the pall of plant closures led you to
retirement perhaps sooner than you wanted or anticipated. Cliff,
Kevin, and everyone who is waiting to see what is going to happen: I
hope what happens is not drastic and debilitating to you and your
family, or your future.

Across the world, I hold my breath and wait for your news.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Artist's village and Walking Street



Now that I have a way out of a city that has turned out to be a not so
fun wandering, I decided to expand my sightseeing. Recalling Lonely
Planet's few destinations worth seeing in Shenzhen and realizing I had
already found a few of them along the bus 306 route I decided I would
venture back onto that bus. First stop would be Artists' Village, an
area occupied by artisans and with shops filled with art. I planned
all that while still disoriented from sleeping in my otherwise
comfortable cubicle.

Breakfasting on the 2nd floor patio showed that the weather
predictions might come true: the sky was overcast and the wind chilly
and moisture laden. Maybe I should consider something indoors to see
if the weather would clear up. I should have my hair done. That seemed
like a safe option and salons abound in this neighborhood where my
hotel is.

The salon I selected was staffed by an older male stylist who declared
at once that he could in fact transform my gray into deep auburn
tinged locks. To make a long story short: he did a FANTASTIC job! My
hair looks great, no lie. I have to admit, after the Uberblond
experiences of last year I was truly leery of entrusting my head to a
salon in China again. Thanks to this experiment I resolve that good
hair care is possible, as long as I go to a salon away from campus
where there are experienced techs.

One thing of interest came of this experience, other than having great
looking hair: the stylist's son goes to school in Wuhan! At a college
just down the road from mine, he is majoring in Economics. Like every
other student in China he is required to learn English, so when my
Chinese language skills faltered his parents - the stylist and the
cashier, called him into duty to translate. When we found out we are
neighbors in the same city everyone in the salon visibly relaxed and
conversation flowed. The boy and I exchanged contact information and I
invited him to our campus for any English activities we might have.

Thrilled with my new hair and bolstered by these friendly natives -
well, transplants... Like everyone else living here, they are not
originally from Shenzhen, I hit the streets. A quick lunch consisting
of an egg and spinach wrap, bought from a street vendor and some
mandarin oranges purchased from the fruit stand next to him in my
hands, I headed to a nearby park bench to enjoy my feast. It seems the
weather decided to break and the sun was peeking through what was left
of the clouds. Hunger abated, it was time for Artist's Village.

Every building is colorful. Greens, red, orange and blue welcomed me
into the neighborhood. At the start of the village is a large plaza,
dominated by a large, official looking building. Said building was
closed, as I discovered most shops were, presumably for the holiday.
There were not many people out and about either. That suited me fine;
I didnt' want a bunch of crowds to compete with.

Quickly, rather too quickly I coursed the entire village: main
throughfare, alleyways and all. I had to be missing something; I could
feel it. I meandered slowly down the last lane and hazarded a look
over my right shoulder, down an alley. There it was.

At the end of this alley stood an ancient building, the only one in
the village. According to Lonely Planet this is the last vestige of
the formerly exisiting fishing village, and indeed it was on a creek.
It apparently had been recently renovated and currently housed a
gallery. Sadly I was not allowed to take pictures, even of the
structure, while I toured the inside but I did get pictures of the
outside. I'll post them when I get back to Wuhan. For now the
important thing is to transcribe my notes. I have no less than 8 pages
of notes to write about. Not too shabby for a non-tourist attractive
town, is it?

Now satisfied that I've seen everything relevant in Artists' Village I
headed back toward town to take in Walking Street. Known as Dong Men -
literally East Gate, it throbs with throngs of people. At least, that
is what I've seen when riding past it. And, Lonely Planet said it was
one of the few must sees while here.

Well, if Lonely Planet says so...

It is in fact a hyper crowded shopping complex. People everywhere!
Bargains boldly advertised! Smells of food and sounds of blaring
techno music! I walked through two of the main throughfares... well,
more like I was carried through with the tide.

My good humor was fast dissipating. This is truly not my scene. There
are no gentle street market vendors here. No courtesies and no
exchanges of goodwill. There is loud, progressive selling. There is an
abundance of merchandise piled on the floor for people to paw through
and find bargains with. There are trendy people with the latest
hairstyles, pretty boys and fashionable girls. There are more people
than I want to encounter during a single outing, let alone the last
exploration of the day.

As soon as I could I made my way out of the maze of noise and people,
back to the main road. Instead of waiting for the bus at the attendant
stop I walked uphill for two stops, so as to not have to fight to
board the bus. I was back at the hotel by 5PM, long before dark and
way before I had to worry about being out after dark alone, as per
Lonely Planet's warning.

All in all it was a nice day with one or two happy surprises - the
hair and the ancient building being the surprises in question.
However, those two nice events were balanced out by two not so
pleasant ones: the monkeys and the woman who lost her son. As soon as
she realized her child had gone missing she ran around, pawing people
aside and screaming for her child: "My son! My son! Who has seen my
son?" She brushed past me, unseeing. I felt terrible for her. If I had
seen her son I surely would have helped her. Other people commenting
on her did see her son but perhaps could not help. As I could not help
either I got out of her way.

For some reason the Chinese find animal cruelty amusing. I found that
out at the zoo last year. This monkey show was no different. Three
monkeys on leashes, the owner whipping them for discipline, the
monkeys hissing. People ringing the show, laughing. The monkey
torturer tied one monkey's hands behind his back and put a blindfold
over its eyes, and then leveled a gun and shot it - a toy gun, and not
'for real' shot it. The monkey, being well trained, flopped onto its
face without even its hands to break the fall. I was disgusted but the
rest of the crowd was amused. Please note that I saw the show in
passing; I did not stay and watch.

Other than those two unpleasant events it was a nice day. I spent the
evening on the hotel's patio, comfortable, warm and sheltered from the
rain that did finally materialize.