I had the oddest revelation last night. I had to travel half way around the world to realize just what it might have been like on the night Francis Scott Key penned the Star Spangled Banner. The infamous line, "And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air," really, and I do mean REALLY came to life for me last night.
In the United States we celebrate the 4th of July with magnificent ariel rocket displays and explosions. The bigger, the louder, the more compelx, the better. We synchronize them to music and broadcast orchestras playing the score across the radio waves. There are televised programs spanning through the time zones so that we could literally sit for hours in from of our tv's and see maybe half a dozen major shows across the USA.
Here in China, where the firecracker was made and perfected, I might add, they have a whole different response to the "fireworks display." Rather than large corporations sinking $30,000 - $100,000 dollars into a show, the local family takes their child to the fireworks stand (which at the moment occupy many major street corners) with coin, or if they are lucky, coins in hand.
The children peer over the counter if they are tall enough, if not, the father lifts him/her to the best seat in the house, his shoulders. The mothers are with them, usually smiling but it appears to be an exchange between father and child. Soon they find what the are able to afford and just like kids in the US they are drawn mostly to the illusive looming small but mighty powder keg. Very few leave with that one, because even though made here and NOT imported, they are very expensive.
Happily they leave, crackers in hand, smiles on faces - of both the young and the old. Many return to their homes or neighborhoods to light their goodies with family and friends, some can only make it 10 feet from the fireworks stand before pulling the lighter out of their pocket and setting them ablaze. No one jumps, no one fears, for you see - it is Lantern Festival, it is one of the few days they can be openly happy, joyful and somewhat mischeivious. Those days are limited for the Chinese, so much of their time is spent living inside the lines, living with checks and balances. Open times of celebration tend to drawn everyone from their home regardless of the weather, the snow, the frigid cold.
No wonder the explosions, which honestly had to number in the millions went on from 7-8 hours, uninterrupted with less that 30 second intervals. They were happy, they were letting each other know they find joy in the small indulgences they are afforded a few times a year. This morning the air is calm, it is quiet except for the sound of the cable car which runs by the hotel. The streets are strewn with paper wrappers, but like all other morning there is a host of workers who ride around on bicycles to clean the streets with rudimentary twig brooms for the fun is over and this is what their government requires of them. The streets will be clean within the hour.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Sounds of the City
*** Note to self: Remember to buy your sister a VERY nice present, as I am sure when she took on the task of posting your blogs for you she had no idea how much you would actually blog***
In light of the Lantern Festival, not only is the sky strewn with festive paper lanterns but every inch of available sidewalk space gives way to the firecracker! I have literally heard hundreds of thousands of firecrackers and small "sonic boom" explosions over the past 24 hours. As night begins to fall they are more frequent and much louder. I can only imagine what it is actually like on the day Chinese New Year is celebrated!
I have noticed that since my first visit to China back in 1988 that the vehicle now outnumbers the bicycle about 100 to 1. It saddens me, for I miss the ding,ding,ding of the small bicycle bell that every bicycle was so appropriately equipped with. What I do enjoy though is that both the pedestrian and the motor vehicle give preference to the bicyclist. It is wonderful to see that which was so predominately chinese, although fading away, is still honored as the way in which the people moved so rapidly and efficiently throughout the city.
Crossing the street here is a daunting experience. I have learned in the past 24 hours to stand on the corner, look for a group of men, and when they begin to move I tunnel into the middle of the group and cross with them. Some look surprised to see me practically grasping their coattails, while other never notice I was there. Tonight for example, I was waiting and then when I crossed a man came up along side of me and said, "OK!" I laughed and said, "OK!" He just chuckled and walked away. I guess he knew I depended on him to guide me safely across.
Tonight I had my first dinner. I feasted on a local fried rice dish made with an egg I can't identify. It WAS tasty though. I also had steamed loofa sponge in garlic sauce. All I can say is, "Why do we choose to bathe with them when they are so good in garlic sauce?" They served me complimentary lemon green tea. I drank three glasses, 6-8 oz each. Combined with he cups in he tea shop today I think I will fall asleep in a tea induced coma. The tea "high" has passed and I am starting to get sleepy.
I also noticed that with Mandarin being a tonal language, no matter what people are saying to each other - whether it be angry or joyful, everything sounds like mad confrontation. It sounds as though they are constantly fighting then you see one smile and they walk away happy. It's an interesting language, possibly not my favorite to hear. There were some men on the airplane coming here, they were East indian and spoke Bengali. Bengali may be one of my favorites because of the sing-songish nature of the language, it sounds happier.
I did have one more really cool experience today. I hopped a cab to Tian'anmen Square this morning. I had a really nice cab driver. Towards the end of my day a man in a covered pedicab started to approach me, he followed me for a block or so. I thought, "Great, this guy is going to pester me to take a ride!" He kind of had me backed into a corner then he stopped. He threw open his little door and said "Hello", not Ni Hao. I smiled and was about to wave him off when he looked at me again and said, "Hello!!" It was my cab driver from earlier in the morning. I smiled, told him hello and he smiled back, closed his door and drove away. It was rather endearing to me, for in a town of 22 million people - I saw the same person twice in the same day, and he went out of his way to say "Hello."
*** Sister left the message on for the world to see just in case she forgets the gift!***
In light of the Lantern Festival, not only is the sky strewn with festive paper lanterns but every inch of available sidewalk space gives way to the firecracker! I have literally heard hundreds of thousands of firecrackers and small "sonic boom" explosions over the past 24 hours. As night begins to fall they are more frequent and much louder. I can only imagine what it is actually like on the day Chinese New Year is celebrated!
I have noticed that since my first visit to China back in 1988 that the vehicle now outnumbers the bicycle about 100 to 1. It saddens me, for I miss the ding,ding,ding of the small bicycle bell that every bicycle was so appropriately equipped with. What I do enjoy though is that both the pedestrian and the motor vehicle give preference to the bicyclist. It is wonderful to see that which was so predominately chinese, although fading away, is still honored as the way in which the people moved so rapidly and efficiently throughout the city.
Crossing the street here is a daunting experience. I have learned in the past 24 hours to stand on the corner, look for a group of men, and when they begin to move I tunnel into the middle of the group and cross with them. Some look surprised to see me practically grasping their coattails, while other never notice I was there. Tonight for example, I was waiting and then when I crossed a man came up along side of me and said, "OK!" I laughed and said, "OK!" He just chuckled and walked away. I guess he knew I depended on him to guide me safely across.
Tonight I had my first dinner. I feasted on a local fried rice dish made with an egg I can't identify. It WAS tasty though. I also had steamed loofa sponge in garlic sauce. All I can say is, "Why do we choose to bathe with them when they are so good in garlic sauce?" They served me complimentary lemon green tea. I drank three glasses, 6-8 oz each. Combined with he cups in he tea shop today I think I will fall asleep in a tea induced coma. The tea "high" has passed and I am starting to get sleepy.
I also noticed that with Mandarin being a tonal language, no matter what people are saying to each other - whether it be angry or joyful, everything sounds like mad confrontation. It sounds as though they are constantly fighting then you see one smile and they walk away happy. It's an interesting language, possibly not my favorite to hear. There were some men on the airplane coming here, they were East indian and spoke Bengali. Bengali may be one of my favorites because of the sing-songish nature of the language, it sounds happier.
I did have one more really cool experience today. I hopped a cab to Tian'anmen Square this morning. I had a really nice cab driver. Towards the end of my day a man in a covered pedicab started to approach me, he followed me for a block or so. I thought, "Great, this guy is going to pester me to take a ride!" He kind of had me backed into a corner then he stopped. He threw open his little door and said "Hello", not Ni Hao. I smiled and was about to wave him off when he looked at me again and said, "Hello!!" It was my cab driver from earlier in the morning. I smiled, told him hello and he smiled back, closed his door and drove away. It was rather endearing to me, for in a town of 22 million people - I saw the same person twice in the same day, and he went out of his way to say "Hello."
*** Sister left the message on for the world to see just in case she forgets the gift!***
Tea
Today started with some very sad news. I spoke with a friend at home who informed me that my childhood friend had taken her life yesterday. It saddened me that she was in a place that none of us realized she was in. I think back to our youth and Tresa was a sweet, happy kid. Thanks to Facebook, we became acquainted again, as adults, after a 28 year hiatus. I will miss her wit, her moments of tender concern and sharing stories about our poodle babies :) She will be missed.
I started out in an effort to get to Tian'anmen Square and take in the sights and sounds this morning. After arriving I was amazed that not only had they fenced off the largest public square in the world, but I had to go through a guard checkpoint, purse scan and body wanding. Having passed all (whew!) I began to walk rapidly. It was frigid. After being offered a panda beenie and a Chairman Mao revolving hand watch, a young woman approached. I could feel the scam coming on so I kept walking.
I was wearing a red cashmere coat my husband had bought me, (thanks honey. I was WARM), and she told me how traditional I looked, how well my hair went with my jacket. She said, "You are wery, wery traditional in color, red jacket - yellow hair. Wery Chinese." I prefer to think of myself as a chemically enhanced blonde, not a yellow hair! I ditched her and moved on.
Walking the streets I had memories of having been in the same area back in 2006. I walked, smelling the roasting chestnuts and hazlenuts that the vendors were selling. It was positively heavenly. I stumbled across a street that looked festive and lively. My first stop found me in a small fruit market where I procured 7 - yes, 7 fresh mangosteens! For anyone who has never had a fresh mangosteen, they alone are worth a trip to asia. I was almost jumping with joy, as was the vendor, because I am sure I paid more than market value for them.
I continued down the street and found myself looking inside a small but cozy tea shop. The owner joyfully ran to the door and ushered me inside. He asked me to sit and turned his floor heater towards me to keep me warm. He spoke very limited english, but over the duration of the next two hours I had one of the most memorable experiences of my life.
While we tried to carry on conversation he would reach up onto the shelf and bring down tin after tin of fresh teas. When I showed interest in one he would brew up some water, measure the tea and serve me. He used small cups, about the equivalent of a shot. We talked as best we could and then he would brew another tea. I learned how many times you can steep each tea, and that USA = NBC. He knew of NBC and was very proud of that.
I lost count at about 35 cups. Oh yes, this went on an on. It was fantastic. He then showed me a clay figurine that when you pour hot water on him he absorbs it and pees it out. We laughed and laughed. Next he offered me a cigarette, and using the best sign language he could for airplane he let me know that he brought them with him from Fujian. Being a non smoker I did what all non-smokers would do, I said "Sure." He then handed me a sardine can with the lid half pulled back to use as my ashtray. It was hilarious. I smiled and said "this has been the best day." He didn't understand, but then I smiled and said, "Thank you." He leaned back in his chair, cigarette in hand and said, "No, Thank YOU!"
He gave me many gifts, and I bought many teas. He asked me to come back and we will try Oolong next time. I got up, paid my bill and went around the little table where we shared tea and hugged him. He was taken aback, but enjoyed it and laughed. It was awesome. All of this tea made it so I needed the bathroom, badly! I turned down a back alley hutong (the slums) and smelled out the public restroom. I entered, only to find 6 squat toilets, three of which had patrons using them. There are no walls or dividers, but since I avoided eye contact it was a bit more comfortable.
After leaving I happened upon a lively street fair celebrating the lantern festival. There were literally thousand of paper lanters strewn throughout the streets and dangling in the air above the streets. The colors were vibrant and the people were happy and laughing and enjoying their day. I walked through candy stores and squeezed the whole ducks they sell in foil bags (to the disbelieving stares of many), and I bargained with a street hocker, only to be told I was cheap.
I bought a candy called Honey Cake. It is honey infused with mass amounts of air and cooked to where it feels more like freeze dried than anything. It is crunchy but when you bite it, it just sort of disapates because of all the air, and it leaves the most wonderful honey flavor in your mouth. It is delicious!
I was worn out, I think I covered several miles today. I watched and listened, offering up smiles and the traditional greeting of Ni Hao to most everyone who would look back at me. I noticed once again that it is the men who respond, and the small children. I love these people. I love the lines on their faces and the expression in their eyes. I love their quiet nature and their ability to endure. I love that they can survive in a country that doesn't allow them many freedoms. They are strong, they are resiliant. They don't have much, but what they have they will share - be it tea or cigaretts or a smile that hasn't been forced out of them in years. It is a good place, it is my happy place and I will go to bed tonight satisfied.
I started out in an effort to get to Tian'anmen Square and take in the sights and sounds this morning. After arriving I was amazed that not only had they fenced off the largest public square in the world, but I had to go through a guard checkpoint, purse scan and body wanding. Having passed all (whew!) I began to walk rapidly. It was frigid. After being offered a panda beenie and a Chairman Mao revolving hand watch, a young woman approached. I could feel the scam coming on so I kept walking.
I was wearing a red cashmere coat my husband had bought me, (thanks honey. I was WARM), and she told me how traditional I looked, how well my hair went with my jacket. She said, "You are wery, wery traditional in color, red jacket - yellow hair. Wery Chinese." I prefer to think of myself as a chemically enhanced blonde, not a yellow hair! I ditched her and moved on.
Walking the streets I had memories of having been in the same area back in 2006. I walked, smelling the roasting chestnuts and hazlenuts that the vendors were selling. It was positively heavenly. I stumbled across a street that looked festive and lively. My first stop found me in a small fruit market where I procured 7 - yes, 7 fresh mangosteens! For anyone who has never had a fresh mangosteen, they alone are worth a trip to asia. I was almost jumping with joy, as was the vendor, because I am sure I paid more than market value for them.
I continued down the street and found myself looking inside a small but cozy tea shop. The owner joyfully ran to the door and ushered me inside. He asked me to sit and turned his floor heater towards me to keep me warm. He spoke very limited english, but over the duration of the next two hours I had one of the most memorable experiences of my life.
While we tried to carry on conversation he would reach up onto the shelf and bring down tin after tin of fresh teas. When I showed interest in one he would brew up some water, measure the tea and serve me. He used small cups, about the equivalent of a shot. We talked as best we could and then he would brew another tea. I learned how many times you can steep each tea, and that USA = NBC. He knew of NBC and was very proud of that.
I lost count at about 35 cups. Oh yes, this went on an on. It was fantastic. He then showed me a clay figurine that when you pour hot water on him he absorbs it and pees it out. We laughed and laughed. Next he offered me a cigarette, and using the best sign language he could for airplane he let me know that he brought them with him from Fujian. Being a non smoker I did what all non-smokers would do, I said "Sure." He then handed me a sardine can with the lid half pulled back to use as my ashtray. It was hilarious. I smiled and said "this has been the best day." He didn't understand, but then I smiled and said, "Thank you." He leaned back in his chair, cigarette in hand and said, "No, Thank YOU!"
He gave me many gifts, and I bought many teas. He asked me to come back and we will try Oolong next time. I got up, paid my bill and went around the little table where we shared tea and hugged him. He was taken aback, but enjoyed it and laughed. It was awesome. All of this tea made it so I needed the bathroom, badly! I turned down a back alley hutong (the slums) and smelled out the public restroom. I entered, only to find 6 squat toilets, three of which had patrons using them. There are no walls or dividers, but since I avoided eye contact it was a bit more comfortable.
After leaving I happened upon a lively street fair celebrating the lantern festival. There were literally thousand of paper lanters strewn throughout the streets and dangling in the air above the streets. The colors were vibrant and the people were happy and laughing and enjoying their day. I walked through candy stores and squeezed the whole ducks they sell in foil bags (to the disbelieving stares of many), and I bargained with a street hocker, only to be told I was cheap.
I bought a candy called Honey Cake. It is honey infused with mass amounts of air and cooked to where it feels more like freeze dried than anything. It is crunchy but when you bite it, it just sort of disapates because of all the air, and it leaves the most wonderful honey flavor in your mouth. It is delicious!
I was worn out, I think I covered several miles today. I watched and listened, offering up smiles and the traditional greeting of Ni Hao to most everyone who would look back at me. I noticed once again that it is the men who respond, and the small children. I love these people. I love the lines on their faces and the expression in their eyes. I love their quiet nature and their ability to endure. I love that they can survive in a country that doesn't allow them many freedoms. They are strong, they are resiliant. They don't have much, but what they have they will share - be it tea or cigaretts or a smile that hasn't been forced out of them in years. It is a good place, it is my happy place and I will go to bed tonight satisfied.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Durian and other nasty things
There is a fruit here in asia that the locals seem to love, it is called a Durian. It is often quite huge, becsuse they are not picked but rather allowed to grow until they drop into nets placed below the trees. Not all locals love durian and even fewer westerners have let it get within 2' of their mouths.
The durian fruit itself lie in sections within the semi hard, very spiney outer shell. It resembles a puffer fish once he has "puffed". When the shell on the outside brakes the inside is filled with segments of an almost dry and slimey texture . Once you have broken the skin of the durian, whether accidental or intentional, you will discoevr the most putrifying, disgustingly nasty smell I have ever come across. It is a mix between highly sulfuric rotten eggs and the worst case of body odor known to man.
This morning sleep eveaded me. I was up at 2 am wide awake. The city is interesting at that time. It is hard to believe in a city off 22 million people, that there can be moments of complete still and utter silence. Walking in the frigid air, I saw some steam rising softly into the air from the manhole in the street I was walking down. It looked awesome, typically "Chinese" you could say. Light whisps of vapor rising to the sky.
Curiously I approached, not realizing at that same moment that I had my mouth open and was inhaleing! The smells that overtook me and made me choke and slightly gasp made me realize that at that very moment I was sure I had tasted Durian! Now, if I can ever get that wretched odor out of my nostrils, I may go back outside again today :)
The durian fruit itself lie in sections within the semi hard, very spiney outer shell. It resembles a puffer fish once he has "puffed". When the shell on the outside brakes the inside is filled with segments of an almost dry and slimey texture . Once you have broken the skin of the durian, whether accidental or intentional, you will discoevr the most putrifying, disgustingly nasty smell I have ever come across. It is a mix between highly sulfuric rotten eggs and the worst case of body odor known to man.
This morning sleep eveaded me. I was up at 2 am wide awake. The city is interesting at that time. It is hard to believe in a city off 22 million people, that there can be moments of complete still and utter silence. Walking in the frigid air, I saw some steam rising softly into the air from the manhole in the street I was walking down. It looked awesome, typically "Chinese" you could say. Light whisps of vapor rising to the sky.
Curiously I approached, not realizing at that same moment that I had my mouth open and was inhaleing! The smells that overtook me and made me choke and slightly gasp made me realize that at that very moment I was sure I had tasted Durian! Now, if I can ever get that wretched odor out of my nostrils, I may go back outside again today :)
Day 1
I woke to a wonderful snowy Beijing, and it was much like being home. After getting my very small but cozy room in order, 5 cups of the most wonderful oolong tea, and a much deserved hot shower, I hit the road. It was still fairly early and the Bank of China was not open. I was not sure if they would open on the weekend so I found an ATM and got some money (after a longer than necessary struggle I might add).
I discovered this great little restaurant and of course, NO ONE spoke english. Viewing a menu of pictures and chinese characters I finally settled on a steaming hot bowl of Congee (rice porridge) with 100 year old fermented duck eggs, shredded pork and cabbage. It was served with fried bread and was so delicious! I also had a cup of hot rose tea which just pushed me over the edge of euphoria! The little girls in the restaurant were adorable. They just sat and giggled as I rubbed my tummy, licked my lips and gave several gratitory bows.
I walked until I nearly froze, taking in the sounds, the sights and the smells that are so predominately "China." People here don't care much for eye contact, and anyone who knows me, knows I am all about eye contact. The women seem to stare right through me, but the men, even though I believe they like it less, they almost have a startled look of delight on their faces as I "stare them down" and smile at them.
I love that the people here dress for necessity rather than to be seen. Men dare to wear pink shirts with hot orange corduroy jackets because no one would think of viewing it as "unfashionable." It is warm, yet still reflects the color they have been allowed to don over the past 15 years, something non-existent 20 years ago.
Walking around, I realized how thankful I am to be here. I love to take in the sights, and sounds, (I could do without some of the smells), but all those things combined make China who it is. It is a wonderful place striving for the future while keeping one foot firmly planted in the past. I love the difference it shows, but in typical Chinese fashion, they find balance and harmony. You can be as modern or as old world as you choose here, and they offer the best of both of those worlds to anyone who wants to partake in it.
Mega love to you all...Here's a couple of shots from this morning.
I discovered this great little restaurant and of course, NO ONE spoke english. Viewing a menu of pictures and chinese characters I finally settled on a steaming hot bowl of Congee (rice porridge) with 100 year old fermented duck eggs, shredded pork and cabbage. It was served with fried bread and was so delicious! I also had a cup of hot rose tea which just pushed me over the edge of euphoria! The little girls in the restaurant were adorable. They just sat and giggled as I rubbed my tummy, licked my lips and gave several gratitory bows.
I walked until I nearly froze, taking in the sounds, the sights and the smells that are so predominately "China." People here don't care much for eye contact, and anyone who knows me, knows I am all about eye contact. The women seem to stare right through me, but the men, even though I believe they like it less, they almost have a startled look of delight on their faces as I "stare them down" and smile at them.
I love that the people here dress for necessity rather than to be seen. Men dare to wear pink shirts with hot orange corduroy jackets because no one would think of viewing it as "unfashionable." It is warm, yet still reflects the color they have been allowed to don over the past 15 years, something non-existent 20 years ago.
Walking around, I realized how thankful I am to be here. I love to take in the sights, and sounds, (I could do without some of the smells), but all those things combined make China who it is. It is a wonderful place striving for the future while keeping one foot firmly planted in the past. I love the difference it shows, but in typical Chinese fashion, they find balance and harmony. You can be as modern or as old world as you choose here, and they offer the best of both of those worlds to anyone who wants to partake in it.
Mega love to you all...Here's a couple of shots from this morning.
Friday, February 26, 2010
The Flight
When I was a kid, my mom made the most delicious graham cracker and chocolate frosting sandwiches. After walking home the 3 blocks from school, I would enter the house and the familiar (much welcomed, always appreciated) aroma of Graham Cracker Sandwiches would fill the air. One whiff of these delights and I had the greatest feeling, I was HOME.
Late last night when my flight arrived in Beijing I was walking from the World Trade Center to my hotel. The streets were alive with activity, the air - as it always is in Beijing was thick with pollution ( but more bearable than 4 yrs ago). I walked into the hotel, a sweet, quaint little place. I was greeted by a beautiful brown skinned young man who didn't speak english. We checked me in, running through the usual 'sign language' skills all cultures seem to share.
As he smiled at me, his being with the same gratitude that mine was - for we were happy we communicated without too many difficulties. I stopped, looked around, fill my lungs with the air that is "China", and like when I was a kid, that sudden peace of home surrounded me. I gave him a smile, and the one I got in return let me know, I was HOME.
Late last night when my flight arrived in Beijing I was walking from the World Trade Center to my hotel. The streets were alive with activity, the air - as it always is in Beijing was thick with pollution ( but more bearable than 4 yrs ago). I walked into the hotel, a sweet, quaint little place. I was greeted by a beautiful brown skinned young man who didn't speak english. We checked me in, running through the usual 'sign language' skills all cultures seem to share.
As he smiled at me, his being with the same gratitude that mine was - for we were happy we communicated without too many difficulties. I stopped, looked around, fill my lungs with the air that is "China", and like when I was a kid, that sudden peace of home surrounded me. I gave him a smile, and the one I got in return let me know, I was HOME.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
For all my friends who are starting to check on the blog to see if it is up and running...it definitely is. I leave in 8 days and am finding myself in a whirlwind of things to do. They will get done, however - should they not be accomplished before I go, well, I will be in China. I will find whatever I need there. On this end, my family will discover how to fulfill the role of mom :) Not that I want them to suffer, but I think it is an awesome experience for them as well as for me. The 'Real" blogging will begin next Wednesday, February 25Th, 2010 I look forward to our journey together! REALLY...
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