Lord, I really don't have much to report this week, and I'm just checking in to check in. Back to Kunming means back to the grindstone, and with final papers on the horizon, that goes double. I'm near the end of my rope now. The many difficult elements of living in China and being in this program are starting to add up and make life just suck. First and foremost, a busted computer that almost certainly won't be fixed until I return to the states means that I spent Saturday and Sunday in a smoky, hot webbar writing a paper next to a guy playing Starcraft, a paper which, although I haven't looked at the draft since I quit working on Sunday, is probably no good. I'm getting really tired of not having my own space. My roommate is nice (honestly, nicer and more considerate to me than I am to him), but I just hate having to negotiate space: for chrissakes, I'm not a freshman, I should get to have my own damn bedroom. Also, it seems that every day something new in the dorms breaks: the shower, the key, the outlet, the toilet. I'm pretty much completely out of gas when it comes to Chinese class. I've never really enjoyed Chinese class; I see it as a necessary evil. I'm damn sick of spending hours a day just on language, it's like a complete brain death. And the novelty of China has pretty much worn off. I don't really have time to travel, so it's the same old greasy food, same old KTV (this weekend included several Michael Jackson songs, Twist and Shout, and If You've Got The Money, Honey), same old hot pot. Bleh. And to top things off, this weekend, I somehow contracted a cold. So, great.
It was at least nice to see my language partner again. We chatted about my travels, and she gave me a whole bag of coffee candy, which is essentially what's keeping me alive at this point. She's also going to Canada as an exchange student, and she's going to try and get a tourist visa to the States, which means she might swing by NYC during Christmas time, which would be pretty sweet. This week, we discussed the Taiwan situation, which was less juicy than you might think. To my surprise, she readily conceded that Taiwan had not historically been a part of China and was functionally independent. Discussing the Taiwan situation with the Chinese is kind of funny, because it means tapping into the stock phrases of propoganda. Every Chinese person knows by heart the party line on Taiwan, that it is "an inseperable part of China", in those same exact words, no matter who you ask, every time. But then she made me explain, in a very convoluted way, that yes, America probably had no right to intervene to protect the Guomindang in Taiwan, and yes, they probably shouldn't have, but now that Taiwan is a democracy and they already intervened, they should probably still protect Taiwan. We also had a funny discussion of democracy where she said that China's congress was elected democratically too, and anyone can run, except that, of course, nobody knows anything about the people who run, and the party more or less selects them. But don't the American parties select their presidential candidates, she asked me. No, I said, and explained the primary system, to which she replied, oh, I guess that is more democratic. To soften the blow, I pointed out that America also has problems with democracy, like the fact that you need money to run for anything here. She's fascinated by the idea that American mayors don't get paid that much, and yet aren't that corrupt, which led us to a discussion of corruption, which led me to tell her about how William Jefferson had ten thousand dollars in his freezer. Good times.
I really don't have much to report, nothing that happened to me this week was new or particularly exciting. Maybe next week I'll have more to report. Hopefully, I'll be in a better mood. Check in later.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
5/2/09: Luoyang, Xi'an, Kunming
Hey folks, I'm back safe in Kunming, although my computer still doesn't work :-(. I had a long, sort of interesting day of travelling yesterday, so I'll just write briefly about that.
Luckily, my train back to Xi'an wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be, or it very well could have been, thanks to the help of a friendly Chinese woman and her ten year old kid. Indeed, my ticket on the train was a standing ticket, and I still had no idea what to do, but this woman, whose son wanted to play cards with me, ushered me over to sit with them. We played Chinese poker (yes, it actually is in China, although the rules are slightly different) and another game, where certain cards were highs, but I couldn't remember which ones, and they had to keep repeating which ones were trumps to me. The woman was basically playing for me at points (it's been a long time since I've played Chinese poker), which was kind of annoying, since sometimes I was trying to strategize, rather than not knowing what to do. I slept for a good three hours, to their great amusement, and then woke up and taught them Rummy 500, and immediately remembered how tedious that game can be at times. As the mother said when she was adding up her cards, "This is exercise!" They were really nice, exceptionally warm people, and I thank them for making that train ride pleasant.
I had a really terrible lunch of bland noodles in soup with grey beef and bread (a Xi'an specialty, believe it or not), and caught a cab to the airport. I got to the airport ok, and had a fun conversation with the cab driver, where he talked for a while about the different forms of martial arts in China ( I did not know that Taoism and Buddhism had different forms of martial arts). He also had a great line. "You're from where?", he asked me. "America", I said. Then he started making a machine gun notion and jovially announced, "Americans are always fighting wars everywhere!" I couldn't help but laugh and offer a meek "sometimes..." Since you can't check in to the gate until two hours before your flight, I finished Sister Carrie while drinking a seven dollar (that's American dollars...ecch) cappuchino in an airport cafe. Sister Carrie is a very strange book. It strikes me that the socialist-moralizing populist voice is a very American voice thatused to be very common in American literature and has now almost completely disappeared. The book is filled with very irritating moralizing and judgment from the author, and yet it seems to succeed in spite of itself; the fact that the author's moral judgments seem to have no bearing or no actual relation to the events of the novel kind of makes the novel better in a way.
The plane flight was also very painless. I sat next to a girl who had obviously never been in an airplane before. It was funny, because she kept reminding me to put on my safety belt and keep my tray table in an upright position, as if she had been studying up on flying. When I landed, I had another interesting cab ride with a cab driver who loved America, and had very strong negative opinions on Chinese culture and society that I had never heard openly spoken by a Chinese person. Interestingly, as a way of expressing his dissatisfaction with the current state of Chinese society, he said that today's society was not influenced by socialist ideologies, but rather, by Japanese ideologies (his shorthand for capitalism). It was also kind of funny because he insisted on displaying his knowledge of American history, and recited American history from the revolution to the Civil War, as if I had no idea.
So now I'm here, safe and sound. I've got another four weeks of the program left, and accordingly, I'm going back to once a week dispatches. Hopefully, I can figure out my computer, and go back to posting photos. Now I'm here, with the exception of Luoyang and my computer, I feel like I had a pretty good time with it. I can't decide whether I want to travel another week after the program, or fly back home ASAP. I think I might travel another week if Sarah and Michelle are doing something interesting; it's when I'm alone that I get nervous and anxious and homesick. I don't know, I'll see how I feel. Touch base with y'all later.
Luckily, my train back to Xi'an wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be, or it very well could have been, thanks to the help of a friendly Chinese woman and her ten year old kid. Indeed, my ticket on the train was a standing ticket, and I still had no idea what to do, but this woman, whose son wanted to play cards with me, ushered me over to sit with them. We played Chinese poker (yes, it actually is in China, although the rules are slightly different) and another game, where certain cards were highs, but I couldn't remember which ones, and they had to keep repeating which ones were trumps to me. The woman was basically playing for me at points (it's been a long time since I've played Chinese poker), which was kind of annoying, since sometimes I was trying to strategize, rather than not knowing what to do. I slept for a good three hours, to their great amusement, and then woke up and taught them Rummy 500, and immediately remembered how tedious that game can be at times. As the mother said when she was adding up her cards, "This is exercise!" They were really nice, exceptionally warm people, and I thank them for making that train ride pleasant.
I had a really terrible lunch of bland noodles in soup with grey beef and bread (a Xi'an specialty, believe it or not), and caught a cab to the airport. I got to the airport ok, and had a fun conversation with the cab driver, where he talked for a while about the different forms of martial arts in China ( I did not know that Taoism and Buddhism had different forms of martial arts). He also had a great line. "You're from where?", he asked me. "America", I said. Then he started making a machine gun notion and jovially announced, "Americans are always fighting wars everywhere!" I couldn't help but laugh and offer a meek "sometimes..." Since you can't check in to the gate until two hours before your flight, I finished Sister Carrie while drinking a seven dollar (that's American dollars...ecch) cappuchino in an airport cafe. Sister Carrie is a very strange book. It strikes me that the socialist-moralizing populist voice is a very American voice thatused to be very common in American literature and has now almost completely disappeared. The book is filled with very irritating moralizing and judgment from the author, and yet it seems to succeed in spite of itself; the fact that the author's moral judgments seem to have no bearing or no actual relation to the events of the novel kind of makes the novel better in a way.
The plane flight was also very painless. I sat next to a girl who had obviously never been in an airplane before. It was funny, because she kept reminding me to put on my safety belt and keep my tray table in an upright position, as if she had been studying up on flying. When I landed, I had another interesting cab ride with a cab driver who loved America, and had very strong negative opinions on Chinese culture and society that I had never heard openly spoken by a Chinese person. Interestingly, as a way of expressing his dissatisfaction with the current state of Chinese society, he said that today's society was not influenced by socialist ideologies, but rather, by Japanese ideologies (his shorthand for capitalism). It was also kind of funny because he insisted on displaying his knowledge of American history, and recited American history from the revolution to the Civil War, as if I had no idea.
So now I'm here, safe and sound. I've got another four weeks of the program left, and accordingly, I'm going back to once a week dispatches. Hopefully, I can figure out my computer, and go back to posting photos. Now I'm here, with the exception of Luoyang and my computer, I feel like I had a pretty good time with it. I can't decide whether I want to travel another week after the program, or fly back home ASAP. I think I might travel another week if Sarah and Michelle are doing something interesting; it's when I'm alone that I get nervous and anxious and homesick. I don't know, I'll see how I feel. Touch base with y'all later.
Friday, May 1, 2009
5/1/09: Shaolin Temple
Well, I had pretty much the worst day of travelling I've ever had in China, but for some reason, I'm not in a bad mood right now, because I came back alright, and tomorrow, I'm back in Kunming, so the horizon is in view. Right now, I'm feeling kind of low on the concept of doing any more travelling in China, but who knows, maybe I'll plan another grand tour in the next few weeks for my last week or so in the country.
Today was supposed to go pretty smoothly, since the hostel owner showed me exactly where I could buy the tickets, and I was ready to go. I went confidently up to the window, bought a ticket for Shaolin Temple (later than I wanted to go, but I also got up later than I should have). I stumbled into the parking lot after I realized that this bus depot didn't at all resemble the orderly one in Lijiang, and was ushered on to a bus by someone in an official uniform. The only seat was in the way back, next to a family with little kids, but I was confident at least that I'd get there.
I fell asleep, and woke up just in time to see us pass Shaolin Temple. Ok, I figured, maybe the parking lot is a ways away. But when we finally stopped, I was told that we had an hour, and I was hustled into buying a ticket at the booth of a place that was definitely not Shaolin Temple. This place was a very old Confucian academy, distinguished by very old and impressive cypress trees, but nowhere I particularly wanted to be. Pissed off at being yoked into what seemed to be a tour, I stomped around for about thirty minutes, which was really more time than anyone needed in that place, and then got on the bus, where the hustler calmed me down, said we were going to Shaolin Temple next, and I stupidly bought a return ticket.
Well, the next stop wasn't Shaolin Temple. It was a perfectly undistinguished Buddhist temple I had absolutely no interest in seeing. At this point, with half my day gone, I was positively steaming. I still don't really understand what the incentive was to lie to me, since he didn't actually make any money from decieving me (other than me buying a return ticket, but I might have done that anyhow, since I wasn't sure how I was going to get back). And I was pissed because I definitely didn't request any ticket other than the one to Shaolin Temple, and went through an official broker, not a street tout. The next stop wasn't even Shaolin Temple. They stopped for food for forty minutes. Meanwhile, the kids next to me were getting antsy. The genius parents bought them sticks of incense for some reason, and they proceeded to wack me in the face with them, because, obviously, as a foreigner, I'm basically furniture. Pleasant.
By the time we finally got to Shaolin Temple, it was 3:40, and we only had two odd hours there. The driver explained that I should rush to see the show with the group, but I lost the group, and then stayed and watched a show which was not the real show, I later found out. It was kind of neat, but not overly impressive. I really like the idea of the Shaolin Monks, and kung fu in general, on a very adolescent level. I like the idea that through enough hard work, you can train your body and mind to do superhuman things. I also like the idea of a band of monks fighting for justice.
Shaolin temple, unfortunately, at least when I visited, was a miserable place. Zen Buddhism started there, but with throngs of people (probably not helped by the fact that today is a Chinese national holiday), it's the least zen place you can imagine. Also, every landmark is a good kilometer away from every other one, so I spent most of my time walking, and when I wasn't walking, I was wrestling with the crowds. Already pissed off and in no mood to deal with throngs of Chinese tourists, I saw pretty much none of what I had planned to see. I tried to see the next kung fu demonstration, but I missed that one too, and at that point, I calculated that I wouldn't be able to see anything else and catch my bus back. So I went back early, thoroughly disappointed, and just read Records of The Historian for a while. The reading helped calm me down, proving that what it really might have been was that I was just sick of travelling. As a last little irritation, the tour leader hustled me on another bus that was going back earlier. Except there wasn't actually a seat for me on that bus, and I sat uncomfortably hunched over near the front of the bus for two hours. Luckily, I had a solid dinner when I got back, which always helps things.
Well, tomorrow is the end of this journey, but it's gonna be a nuts day of travelling tomorrow. An early morning five hour train ride, and then a semi-mad dash to Xi'an Airport. I'll start at 7 tomorrow morning and hopefully get back to the dorms around 11 in the evening. And my ticket says that I have an assigned car, but no seat, so, that should be interesting. Hopefully, I'll write you from Kunming tomorrow, wish me luck.
Today was supposed to go pretty smoothly, since the hostel owner showed me exactly where I could buy the tickets, and I was ready to go. I went confidently up to the window, bought a ticket for Shaolin Temple (later than I wanted to go, but I also got up later than I should have). I stumbled into the parking lot after I realized that this bus depot didn't at all resemble the orderly one in Lijiang, and was ushered on to a bus by someone in an official uniform. The only seat was in the way back, next to a family with little kids, but I was confident at least that I'd get there.
I fell asleep, and woke up just in time to see us pass Shaolin Temple. Ok, I figured, maybe the parking lot is a ways away. But when we finally stopped, I was told that we had an hour, and I was hustled into buying a ticket at the booth of a place that was definitely not Shaolin Temple. This place was a very old Confucian academy, distinguished by very old and impressive cypress trees, but nowhere I particularly wanted to be. Pissed off at being yoked into what seemed to be a tour, I stomped around for about thirty minutes, which was really more time than anyone needed in that place, and then got on the bus, where the hustler calmed me down, said we were going to Shaolin Temple next, and I stupidly bought a return ticket.
Well, the next stop wasn't Shaolin Temple. It was a perfectly undistinguished Buddhist temple I had absolutely no interest in seeing. At this point, with half my day gone, I was positively steaming. I still don't really understand what the incentive was to lie to me, since he didn't actually make any money from decieving me (other than me buying a return ticket, but I might have done that anyhow, since I wasn't sure how I was going to get back). And I was pissed because I definitely didn't request any ticket other than the one to Shaolin Temple, and went through an official broker, not a street tout. The next stop wasn't even Shaolin Temple. They stopped for food for forty minutes. Meanwhile, the kids next to me were getting antsy. The genius parents bought them sticks of incense for some reason, and they proceeded to wack me in the face with them, because, obviously, as a foreigner, I'm basically furniture. Pleasant.
By the time we finally got to Shaolin Temple, it was 3:40, and we only had two odd hours there. The driver explained that I should rush to see the show with the group, but I lost the group, and then stayed and watched a show which was not the real show, I later found out. It was kind of neat, but not overly impressive. I really like the idea of the Shaolin Monks, and kung fu in general, on a very adolescent level. I like the idea that through enough hard work, you can train your body and mind to do superhuman things. I also like the idea of a band of monks fighting for justice.
Shaolin temple, unfortunately, at least when I visited, was a miserable place. Zen Buddhism started there, but with throngs of people (probably not helped by the fact that today is a Chinese national holiday), it's the least zen place you can imagine. Also, every landmark is a good kilometer away from every other one, so I spent most of my time walking, and when I wasn't walking, I was wrestling with the crowds. Already pissed off and in no mood to deal with throngs of Chinese tourists, I saw pretty much none of what I had planned to see. I tried to see the next kung fu demonstration, but I missed that one too, and at that point, I calculated that I wouldn't be able to see anything else and catch my bus back. So I went back early, thoroughly disappointed, and just read Records of The Historian for a while. The reading helped calm me down, proving that what it really might have been was that I was just sick of travelling. As a last little irritation, the tour leader hustled me on another bus that was going back earlier. Except there wasn't actually a seat for me on that bus, and I sat uncomfortably hunched over near the front of the bus for two hours. Luckily, I had a solid dinner when I got back, which always helps things.
Well, tomorrow is the end of this journey, but it's gonna be a nuts day of travelling tomorrow. An early morning five hour train ride, and then a semi-mad dash to Xi'an Airport. I'll start at 7 tomorrow morning and hopefully get back to the dorms around 11 in the evening. And my ticket says that I have an assigned car, but no seat, so, that should be interesting. Hopefully, I'll write you from Kunming tomorrow, wish me luck.
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